


The Boy and the Woods

by lovelyrhink (crimsonwinter)



Category: Rhett & Link, Rhett and Link
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Beauty and the Beast AU, FarmBoy!Rhett, M/M, Magic, Sorcerer!Link, Swords & Sorcery, that good rhink shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-11-09 10:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 71,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11102727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonwinter/pseuds/lovelyrhink
Summary: Rhett's always longed for adventure outside his plain, provincial town. He just didn't know he'd find it in the woods behind his house in the form of enchanting blue eyes and a history of sorcery.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: As you can see, this is a fantasy AU. Therefore, everything contained within is fictional and not of this universe. I am inspired by Rhett and Link's friendship, everything beyond that is purely fantasy. 
> 
> I'm calling this a Medieval AU, but let's imagine this little village exists somewhere between 15th and 18th Century England. It is also loosely based off Disney's version of _Beauty and the Beast_ , which was [originally written by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve and published in 1740](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beauty_and_the_Beast). 
> 
> Also, please forgive the historical inaccuracies and instead focus on what we know we're all here for: That Good Rhink Content ✌︎
> 
> ~follow my [tumblr](http://lovelyrhink.tumblr.com) for more~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he had were his favorite things and his fantasies, and reading an adventure book brought the two together.

Rhett wanted out. He wanted something to happen to him, anything, that would shake up the ever-consistent dullness of his quiet, provincial town. While he did find escape in the worn pages of his favorite adventure books, it wasn’t enough. He wanted adventure in the great wide somewhere, he wanted it more than he could tell. And if not that, if he couldn’t actually leave the town he knew and seek all the wonders of the world for himself, Rhett thought it might be nice just to meet someone else, someone who would understand there’s more to living than what everyone else had planned.

Still, at heart, Rhett did love his home. It was a little village at the edge of the woods consisting of no more than a generous handful of farmers, cooks, and merchants. Rhett himself came from a line of farmers, as he and his father owned a little stone cottage and some property at the forest’s edge, where they sowed their own crops and raised animals for produce. They didn’t have much money, but it was honest work, and Rhett considered it honorable. All the same, he dreamed of a path in which he wasn’t caked in mud, smelling like pigs, and moping his days away with a barrel of turnips for a friend.

His father was a good man. He knew Rhett wanted to get out, and he was sorry he couldn’t give Rhett what he wanted. But Rhett was grateful for him, particularly after the untimely death of his mother, and loved him very much. In fact, everything that Rhett did in this small town was all for his father and the success of their modest home. His morning chores would continue through the afternoon and leave him a few late hours to himself. That’s where we find Rhett now, somewhere in the middle of throwing feed down to his chickens, eyes on the tips of his tattered boots as they sank into the mud.

It was at this time of day, during his daily chores, in which Rhett would pine for a life beyond. He wondered what it might be like to be a 21-year-old peasant explorer, or maybe not even a peasant at all. He could be a vagabond, or a scholar, a knight, or a prince. Rhett grimaced and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, which left a dusty streak. He could never be a prince. A prince’s servant, maybe.

Rhett flung one last handful of feed at the squawking mass of white feathers pecking at his feet and continued on. He returned to the shed and hung up his barrel, then went to grab his axe. He stopped himself, suddenly feeling very empty and immobile, and let his gaze blur the shadowed tools and gear before him. Suddenly, Rhett was caught in a fantasy of what he might have been like in another life, relaxed and satisfied and clean, so clean, with shiny boot buckles and a nice satin tunic. Instead, here he was, beige potato-sack tunic, plain brown trousers, and the same dirty boots he’d worn for a decade. There was nothing regal or princely here, only that of a lowly serf.

Rhett forced himself to continue on and took the axe by the handle, but made the mistake of catching his warped reflection in the blade. His face was dirty, caked in dust that darkened his already tanned skin and caught in the scrappy bit of hair on his chin and jaw. Once again, he wiped at his lip nervously, but couldn’t clean the peasant grime out of his mustache, and instead rubbed at the back of his neck. He took one final grounding breath as he swept his fingers through the loose, curly amber hair that fell down his forehead, before stepping out of the shed and back into the medieval village sun.

As Rhett crossed his farm, he admired (and cursed) the sight of his distant village. Dirt paths carved between low, unbalanced cottages, each with their own field of sorry crops - wheat, beans, barely, peas, oats - and perhaps an equally sorry mutt resting on the stoop. Signposts were but lumps of rotten wood smashed into the dirt, and at the end of the road, the path split into two. The marketplace lay at the center of town, bustling with sellers presenting their wares, bakers passing off semi-stale bread, and fancy visitors from towns over trying desperately not to step in anything questionable. Rhett could hear it now, faint, and decided he’d head into town after he finished his chores. He gave one last look at the horizon, patterned with trees, houses, and the far gray mountains, before continuing his work.

After chopping up scrap wood for his father’s newest invention, checking the crops, and letting the animals out to graze, Rhett ducked inside his house and went to clean up. His house, just as everyone else’s down the road, was made from stone, small (far too small for a young man of Rhett’s height), shady, and covered in drying meats and vegetables. In the kitchen sat the wash basin, and Rhett had luckily already filled it from the well the night before. Now, he ducked under hanging rosemary and hunched over the basin. He stripped his shoes and shirt and dipped an old rag in the water. He washed his feet quietly, a few friendly birds chirping at him through the window, and tried not to dwell on what could have been. He then dunked his whole face into the basin and scrubbed with his hands. He scooped some water up onto his arms, shoulders, and armpits, and when he finally pulled back, the water in the tin basin was brown. Rhett replaced his dusty tunic and boots, carried the water out, dumped it over the fence, and then finally, _finally,_ set off for his day.

* * *

Once out of his house, Rhett felt a little more at peace. The sky was clear, the wind fresh, and the sun golden. Clean now, Rhett took his time in strolling along the path between the houses, quiet and lonely as always. When he was a little ways towards town, he heard someone call his name. Rhett pulled himself from whatever fantasy he indulged in and looked up to see a girl, his neighbor, smiling brightly at him.

“Hello, June,” he said. It must have been the first thing he’d said aloud all morning, for his voice was quieter than expected. He swallowed the raspiness away and looked at her.

June was a pretty girl with a sunny personality to match. She had long brown hair which she always kept in two braids over her bosom, a red handkerchief atop her head, and a plain white skirt that was just as muddy and worn as Rhett’s trousers. June was a simple farm girl, and just as with the rest of his neighbors, Rhett had known her all his life and considered her a pleasant, familiar face. That was basically the extent of it.

June smiled at him now from the other side of her fence, basket of laundry on her hip. She had freckles on her cheeks and a pretty smile, but there was always so much cheer in her eyes that Rhett never really knew how to go about talking to her.

“You look nice,” she said, and Rhett was grateful to have washed his face before he set out.

“Thank you, so do you.”

June smoothed down the apron on her skirt. “Are you going into town today?”

“Yes, just going back to the library.”

“Again? Haven’t you read all the books already?”

Rhett shrugged. “I like to read.”

June smiled again in a wide, eager way that made Rhett think she didn’t really care what he said so long as he said something, and turned to her laundry line. Tugging a pair of wool socks off the string, she continued, “Well, I hope you have a nice time. And, ah, remember that you can come by again for supper anytime you like.” She seemed a bit bashful as she said this, a faint pink blush against her freckles, and Rhett thought it was sweet of her to offer.

“Thank you, I will. Have a good day.” He then continued on, not looking back. He didn’t see June look after him, a fondness in her gaze held only for him.

Now, some people thought Rhett somewhat antisocial, and perhaps the previous interaction was proof of that. He didn’t mean to seem disinterested, in fact he felt he was doing just fine - curt yet pleasant. He didn’t really have the energy to go out of his way and chat up anyone he saw, he’d rather be alone with his books. This had the village people thinking him a bit odd, a funny boy, with his big nose stuck in the spine of a book instead of the tender neck of a farm girl. Perhaps this made it difficult for him to find that one adventurous person, or maybe he just hadn’t met them yet. And, if he were being honest, he wasn’t much interested in farm girls anyway. Sure, they were nice to look at and sweet to talk to, but considering he could barely feel his heartbeat, he doubted it’d have a life of its own. Hearts singing, falling in love… t’was the stuff of fairytales. Either way, Rhett McLaughlin didn’t feel the smalltalk kind and was happy to continue on his quiet walk into the town.

When the dirt path branched off into the stone market clearing, Rhett was once again stuck in his head. It took a busy baker bumping into him, “Maurice! The baguettes! Hurry up!” to signal he’d arrived.

As always, the center of town was alive with the day’s beginning. The hustle and bustle of this part of town seemed to distract Rhett from the ache of his lonely cottage, and on his way to the library, he lingered a bit around the markets and shops. There was a bakery, a tailor, a butcher, a blacksmith, a cobbler, and various sellers of wares collected in travel. There was also an inn, a pub, and Rhett’s favorite, the library. The stone streets often ran with mud and meat juices in between the cleansing spring rain, and Rhett stepped over potholes and spilled fish as he’d done all his life. People shuffled around him, shouting at each other about prices and debts, every now and then with something nice to say. As Rhett continued on, he spotted three whores lounging outside the pub. It was funny, actually, as he grew up with them and knew their parents. No judgement of their profession, of course, but it was interesting to say the least to hear word of mouth of how good, well, their mouths were. Merchants bartered, uppity out-of-towners fell for their lies, and those who were just trying to stay out of the way lingered on stoops and in alleyways. Beside the library sat a cartload of freshly picked flowers, and when the flower girl recognized him, she gave Rhett a yellow poppy and a pleasant smile. Rhett thanked her, tucked the flower behind his ear, and stepped into what he considered his temple.

Indeed, the library was Rhett’s holy space. It was the only place in the busy town center where he could escape, sail the seas, save beautiful jungle women, and explore worlds beyond all from the dull safety of his provincial village. While quaint, the wooden room was stacked with chapter books and novels of all kinds, little colorful slivers tightly packed and hiding the incredible stories within. The library was a sanctuary where Rhett didn’t feel like a farmboy and instead played a scholar, someone wise beyond his years with an affinity for reading that most everyone in his town lacked. The town librarian knew him well and regarded him his best customer, and years previous had stopped asking Rhett for bit coins when he wanted to take out a book. He’d read everything at least once, so by now, so the librarian let him come and go as he pleased. He couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to.

Rhett said hello to him now. He was a small little man with round spectacles too big for his face, and that same wrinkly face brightened when he saw Rhett.

“My favorite customer!” the librarian said.

“Have anything new for me?” Rhett asked, already pawing the spines of his favorite books.

“Not since yesterday.”

“That’s alright, I’ll take this one.” Rhett reached for a red-bound little beauty high to the left. He brought it down and traced the familiar gold lining around the cover image.

“But you’ve read it twice!”

“What can I say? It’s my favorite. Daring adventures, sword fights, a prince in disguise…”

The little old man shook his head fondly. “You and your fairytales… When’s your head going to come down from the clouds, boy? You’re not going to sail away y’know, no matter how many times you read these books.”

Rhett felt himself smile, warm in his cheeks. This little old man was the only one who Rhett felt he could talk to, and who in turn was allowed to tease him this way. He knew it was a ridiculous thought, but oh how Rhett would love to fall into the pages and swim away from here. “I know,” he said, reaching for a second book bound in blue that he’d only read once. “But still, I'll try.” He looked up and gave the librarian a genuine smile now, even as it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you for everything, Willie.”

Willie wiped the dust off an atlas spine as he said, “Oh no, don’t you be thanking me like you’re going away sometime soon. What’ll happen to this place if you leave?”

Rhett pressed the books close to his chest. “I’ll see you later, old man, don’t hurt yourself trying to get to the top shelf.”

Feeling safe with books in his arms, Rhett turned and left Willie the librarian, “Bah!” to shoo him away playfully. He padded down and back onto the stone streets, once again swarmed in sound and movement. This time, Rhett cut through the crowd easily, as he was more confident with a book in his hands. He began to read from the start, familiar story unfolding in his head as the reality he walked through judged him. He heard whispers, as he often did, calling him a “well-read farmboy” or “the mad inventor’s mad son.” Years ago, these whispers might have brought him down, but Rhett had lived in the same place, walking the same grooves, hearing these same comments for so long that it was all just background noise. The village rumors, such as who was committing adultery or who had spotted the phantom of the woods, didn’t appeal to him, and he brushed past, determined to read.

It was curious that Rhett had so much passion for literature when there wasn’t really any in his life besides. As a farmer, most of his work involved strong hands and heavy labor, which should have turned him thick and brawny like the other boys. Instead, he was tall and bookish, and while he only had a few treasured books for himself, he and his father’s lack of wealth didn’t stop him from chasing the one thing that kept him somewhat content. When he wasn’t feeding the chickens or sowing wheat, he was reading or, on a rare occasion, playing his guitar. His guitar was his most prized possession, as his father brought it back for him on his eighteenth birthday from Vienna. Why his father didn’t take him away instead, he couldn’t tell. Still, he loved that guitar, and learned to play quite well in the three years since. Every now and then, he’d take it to the meadow hill, sit beneath his favorite tree, and play for hours, yet another way to seek any kind of magic he could.

The villagers knew of this, at least well enough to consider Rhett not like the rest of them, as the rest of them ran on money, ale, meat, discourse, and sex. Rhett didn’t care for any of those things, not really, anyway, unless they happened to be contained in the pages of his book and not crude and inescapable in front of him. He made his way through the town now with this disgust quelled, for he had a book, and that’s all that really mattered.

By the time he made it to his favorite spot to read, the fountain outside the cobbler’s, he was already three pages in. He knew how the story ended, which he liked, but the adventure getting there was the best part. All he had were his favorite things and his fantasies, and reading an adventure book brought the two together. He sat on the stone, pulled his legs up, and dove in.

It was when a soft muzzle pressed against his hand, three chapters later, did Rhett look up. A group of sheep had come to say hello, and Rhett spoke to them gently as he pet their wooly heads. Animals, like fiction, were often quiet and gentle enough that Rhett preferred them, and to be drowned in bleating clouds wasn’t a bad way to go. He pet one sheep while another nibbled at the corner of his book. “Good morning,” he said.

“Baaa,” the sheep said.

Rhett presented the book. “This one’s my favorite. See, this is the part when he sets off to find his destiny. Do you believe in destiny?”

“Maaa,” another sheep said.

“I do,” Rhett continued. “I think there’s always something greater out there waiting for us, we just have to get out and find it.”

The sheep under his hand shook its head, floppy ears twitching.

“And this one…” Rhett lay his hand on the blue book. “This one’s a romance. I’m sure you don’t know anything about that.”

“Baaa.”

“Or maybe you do.”

The boy sat there with the sheep for a few moments longer, or at least until their shepherd came by and pulled them back to the hills. As he watched the little white tufts disappear into the scene, Rhett got a similar idea, and absconded to his usual hill. He slipped through the busy clockwork of the town and up towards the lonely lookout. The afternoon wind had kicked up now, and the long grass swayed in the breeze. With two books under one arm, Rhett climbed high, took a deep breath, and collapsed into the green. He felt pinned there, stretched out with one arm protecting his books. The sun beat down on his back, wind on his skin. He wondered if he stayed here, how many plants would grow from his body. Back to earth in one way or another.

As he lay, Rhett felt an overwhelming sense of misplace. It was too stagnant here, he saw the same things too often. He tried desperately to appreciate his village, his animals and his house and his books, and he did, on a surviving level, but he wanted _more._ He couldn’t be satisfied with whores and quarrels like the rest of his town, he wanted to seek his own destiny or at least find something, _anything,_ to change his perceptions. Actually, Rhett felt guilty for wanting something without truly seeking it, he was tired of hearing himself complain. It was an endless circuit of discontent yet Rhett couldn’t bear to admit his grievances. He really didn’t have much to complain about, really, save for a few village rumors and hard labor. Other than that, it was a pretty nice little world.

So why did he feel so lost?

Rhett didn’t quite want to chase the answer to that just yet, so he just lay in the grass and breathed. He read a little bit more, then gazed out at the distant mountains. When he finally felt it time to journey back home, he stood and sent out one final thought. _If there’s anything out there,_ he prayed, _please make something happen soon._

When he was back safe and sound in his cottage, he lit a fire in the hearth and made himself some bread and cheese. He sat by candlelight and read some more, up to chapter seven, by the time his father returned.

His father, Oliver, was a farmboy just like him with equally wild dreams. He was tall like Rhett, thicker in the arms and middle, and had darker hair, but he was definitely Rhett’s father, as they shared the same isolation from the rest of the town. While Rhett seemingly got his love of books from and the eyes of his mother, his father was like him in aspirations and dreamt to become an inventor, particularly machinery. He traveled towns over to sell baskets of crops and dairy, as well as in attempt to persuade any patron to invest in his ideas. Of course, he met little success. Rhett’s father used to take Rhett out on day trips in their cart, their horse Philippe at the head, but now left Rhett to man the farm on his days out. When he returned, he’d tell Rhett of his failures, and Rhett would remind him every time that he’d find luck someday, even if he didn’t quite believe it.

Oliver now rung out his handkerchief over the kitchen sink as he asked his son how his day was.

“It was fine,” Rhett said. “Went to the library.”

“Always reading, my son,” he said, “Tell me if you find anything about star-shaped cogs, will you? Need to refresh on my woodwork.”

Rhett stood and moved to pour himself some bitter tea. “I chopped up those scraps, by the way.”

“Thank you, tomorrow go out to the woods and cut some more lumber from that fallen tree.”

Rhett promised he would, then asked, “Did anything interesting happen to you today?”

His father picked the last crust of bread off Rhett’s plate and popped it in his mouth. “Now that you mention it, seems word of the phantom has spread two towns over.” He looked around for more food, then settled on cutting himself his own slice of bread. “Woman in a hat shop said she’d heard of our town and the ghost in the woods.”

Rhett scoffed. “Where do people get these ideas? There’s nothing in those woods but dirt.”

The legend of their town’s woodland phantom had existed for as long as Rhett could remember. Kids would wander out into the woods and return with stories of creepy mist and disembodied voices. Everyone’s cousin claimed they’d had an experience in the woods, feeling watched, toyed with. Strangers feared taking the forest route into the village for they feared the phantom himself. They said that if you didn’t acknowledge or respect the phantom, he’d snatch your animals in the middle of the night and eat them. While Rhett didn’t believe in any sheep-snatching ghost, some of their animals did disappear, and many of the villagers believed it to be the phantom of the woods. Some of them even raised particularly fat pigs as offerings. “Better a pig than me!” they’d say.

Rhett didn’t believe it. Sure, he believed in something else out there, magic and spirits and fates, maybe, but the legend was just that - a legend. There was no one particular phantom roaming the woods behind his house, that was absurd! This place was too boring for that, Rhett felt. If anything, supernatural beings probably did reside in the woods but kept themselves locked away beyond the veil, and Rhett thought that anyone who went searching for ghostly trouble was sure to find it. However, his desire for adventure did not exclude spirits, if that’s where destiny wanted to take him.

His father sat at the small wooden table, munching bread, seemingly forgetting their conversation. Rhett told him there was some soup on the stove from breakfast then took his books and retreated into his bedroom, which was less like a bedroom and more like an attic corner with a window overlooking the woods. He settled into his lumpy straw and feather bed and was about to open his red book once again when he found himself looking out at the forest landscape. Maybe there was a ghost in there, or a whole gang of ghosts. Maybe this “phantom” was really just a group of deer whose soft hooves sounded like whispers, maybe the shady breeze in the trees was just a little too chilly, or maybe the people in his town were just as bored and mad as him and made up fantasies to keep themselves from wandering into the woods. And as much as Rhett sought adventure, he knew all the woods would lead him to was the next town over, which, by his occasional visits, wasn’t any more interesting or any less provincial than his.

He fell asleep that night with his books still in his bed and an untraceable dream at the borders of his mind.

* * *

In the morning, Rhett did what his father asked him to do. He completed his morning work in the same routine he always did, then went out back towards the woods to chop lumber. His mind was eerily quiet this morning, not overworking itself on impossible fantasies as it usually did. Rhett was grateful for this, and instead just raised his axe and brought it down on the fallen tree like a swift weight, letting all his tensions release as his shoulders split the tree in pieces. Rhett liked wood, the smell and feel and roughness of it, and chopping lumber or building something was hardly a terrible chore. He kept a steady rhythm as he went, nothing but the same birds and the same stillness as he chopped. He was sweaty and sore by the time he kicked a few imperfect logs aside and rested on his axe. Rhett wiped his brow, blinked through the sweat, and caught something shimmer at the edge of the woods.

He blinked and rubbed again, thinking one of their lambs had escaped (the lucky bastard) but found instead the creature was a rabbit.

Rhett breathed calmly and kept his eyes on the rabbit, which shimmered silver and seemed to be constructed of nothing but glowing mist, its eyes like beaded droplets of light against a translucent body. Surely the work had gotten to him, Rhett thought, he must have been more exhausted than he knew. However, as he continued to stare, the rabbit stayed put. It hopped around against the damp earth, but made no anxious movement when Rhett pulled his axe from the tree. Rhett tried to go back to chopping, but the rabbit lingered, mysteriously beautiful, in the corner of his eye. Something prickled the hairs at the back of his neck, and where his mind was once placid, only one thought arose: _Follow it._

Sure enough, when Rhett looked back up, the rabbit was watching him, and it was only a tense moment before the rabbit hopped back into the woods. Rhett dropped his axe and followed it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett had never seen anyone who looked like this.

As he chased the rabbit through the woods, Rhett felt no fear. While he was well aware that he was deeply lost, he was unafraid as he moseyed behind the silver rabbit. The rabbit itself stayed a good twelve feet in front of him, hopping between trees over the cool forest earth. In following, Rhett let his mind bend to the whim of the woods, and not a single panicked thought struck him as the trees whispered the way. With the wind at his back and the rabbit in front, he kicked through overgrown pathways and ducked under fallen trees. It helped that the rabbit glowed faintly in the dark, disappearing behind tree trunks and into hollows at a steady pace, leading Rhett respectfully but not once looking back to confirm he was following.

Although Rhett didn’t recognize any part of the rabbit’s woods and knew that straying from home was foolish, something tugged at his chest, invisible silver thread, perhaps, which told him to keep going. He didn’t know how long he’d walked or how many boulders he’d stepped over on his way, but he kept his feet solid beneath him and his eyes on the magical creature ahead. He could hear the river somewhere distant, or perhaps close and to his left, but he wasn’t sure as sounds echoed strained, mystical, as if the woods itself wanted to confuse him. He continued on all the same, feeling strangely safe with the tall trees looming overhead. When the chase came to an end, Rhett stopped at the edge of a forest clearing and watched as the rabbit hopped right up to a huge, moss-covered lump in the earth and vanished as it collided.

Rhett stopped. He could finally feel his heartbeat, thumping at an indiscernible rhythm in his chest. He was slightly out of breath although he hadn’t ran at all, and standing still now made him woozy. His eyes went blurry as he tried to make out the lump, but couldn’t decide what it was without getting a closer look. Without any hesitance, Rhett stepped forward into the clearing. Immediately, he felt a shift beneath the ground, as if he was walking on someone else’s earth. The trees surrounding the clearing trembled, or so Rhett thought, and wind whipped through their branches like gossip. With a clear head, Rhett observed the scene, and found no signposts or pathways to indicate anyone had been here before him. Solid trees bordered the clearing, the morning sky gray and filtering soft hazy light. Rhett could not see the mountains beyond the trees, yet the river babbled on, chatting with the wind. Rhett was patient as he stepped closer to the lump, curious but brave.

Rhett didn’t wonder where in the woods he was, as he knew he wouldn’t get an answer, but he did hope it wasn’t too far from home. As much as he wanted to go, starving alone in the woods didn’t seem the best way. He made a mental note of the lump, the river, and the clearing in hopes that he’d find his way back eventually. He looked back the way he came as a shiver skittered down his spine. He was alone in the woods, or so it seemed, but Rhett had the strangest inkling that he was being watched. Just to be safe, the farmboy then spoke to whatever had brought him here.

“Well,” he started, rubbing the goose pimples from his arms, “I mean no disrespect to any of the spirits who reside in these woods. I apologize for intruding, I did not intend to disturb you.” He felt a bit foolish, and his voice was less than steady, but he continued on, sure that the glowing rabbit was no act of God. Indeed, he knew enough about the spirit world to respect it, and he traced a circle in the dirt with the toe of his boot before he said, “Really, if there’s anything here with me right now, I don’t mean to offend you. I’m going home now.”

Though unsure if his words held any power, Rhett felt it safe to turn back. He was just leaving, a few steps to whence he came, when he felt a whoosh of air and a voice said, “You’re rather tall, aren’t you?”

Rhett spun back around, panicked, and shouted, “Ghost?!” in trembling stupidity.

Before him stood a boy, a pale boy in dark clothes, with eyes so blue Rhett’s heart leapt from more than fear. “Something like that,” he said, cocking a sly, beautiful smile.

Rhett thought he surely must have been dreaming. He had never seen anyone who looked like this. None of the young men in his town looked like this. The boy stood close, too close for comfort, and held Rhett’s frantic gaze steady. He had wide eyes and dark hair, and he seemed to feel no shame as he looked from Rhett’s face to his boots and back again, one thin brow perking up in interest. He was emanating a frequency Rhett had never felt before, warm against the chilly forest breeze.

“You are tall,” he said, his voice the one thing Rhett hadn’t known he’d been missing. The boy crossed his arms, and Rhett could see he wore a long sleeve black tunic with a loose collar and black trousers that were tighter than any he’d seen and cuffed just below his knees. He wore no shoes. “What are you doing in my woods?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Rhett replied honestly.

“Hmph.” His mouth tightened into a skeptical seam, then said, “I don’t usually take well to visitors.” The strange boy then began to circle Rhett, who was pinned to the spot and couldn’t take his eyes off the boy’s face, particularly the lovely dip above his lips. Actually, observing the boy seemed to be the only thing he could do, as the boy in turn observed him. Like two feral creatures met at a forest crossroads, the boys regarded each other with guards up, though little space sat between them. Rhett could almost feel the boy brush against his back, although the last thing he wanted was a strange ghost-boy touching him, no matter how impossibly handsome he was.

Thankfully, the boy stepped back and kept his distance. Rhett’s throat was dry by the time he spoke again. “Are you dangerous?” Rhett asked.

“Could be,” said the boy in black. “Are you?”

“No.”

“No, I didn’t think you were.”

Rhett said nothing and silence fell between them. They kept a tense watch on each other, eyes meeting over something unspoken.

The stranger spoke again. “What’s your name?”

“Rhett McLaughlin.” Rhett winced. He hated that he’d answered, but something about the boy drew honesty out of him, regardless if he wanted him to or not.

“So quick to confess, are you? Not a smart move when meeting a stranger.” It was the boy’s playful chiding that had Rhett encouraged to challenge back. He wasn’t afraid of this new boy, as he was shorter and slimmer than him, and instead felt his teasing invasive but not entirely unfriendly.

“You tell me your name, you’re no longer a stranger.”

“How do you know I’ll tell the truth?”

“I don’t.” Rhett felt braver by the second, and breathed deep into his lungs for confidence. He tried not to glance down at the boy’s pink lips as he spoke. He had never been so distracted by someone, someone so curious and new, and his once invisible heart beat quick, making him foolish and gutsy. “But I will trust you, if you let me.”

The boy laughed. It was a sharp laugh, full of teeth, and he threw his head back in flair. “Who _are_ you?”

Rhett avoided the question. “Where am I? What part of the woods is this? I heard the river.”

“You must come from the village.” Apparently, two could play the not-answering game.

“Where do you come from?”

The boy turned his head. Rhett could see that his raven hair was shaggy and outgrown, pulled into a small tail at the back of his neck. Rhett noted the slender slope of his nape but felt strange about it and looked away.

The boy in black pointed at the large, mossy lump. “That’s my cottage. These are my woods.”

“Oh.” Rhett understood. He could see it now, the slouching shape of it, rooftop meeting the earth in a mossy hill, the rest of it rising in unsteady stone at an angle. There was a round wooden door where the rabbit had disappeared, and Rhett wondered how he hadn’t seen it before. Actually, the closer he looked, the more it seemed like a cottage instead of a lump, but it was still very much swallowed by the forest.

“Nice, isn’t it?” the one who refused to give his name said. Rhett made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat in response. “Well, anyway,” the stranger continued, “I think it’s time for you to go now.”

“What’s your name?”

The boy scratched the dark stubble on his chin. “Still on about that?”

“Is this a dream then?”

This made the boy falter. He looked at Rhett, squinted his eyes, and seemed to come to an unknown conclusion. “Why haven’t you run away?”

“I don’t know your name.” Rhett had never played with someone like this, but it felt good. The boy was stubborn and Rhett was cold and confused, but standing here with him was a welcome change to standing with the pigs on his farm. Not that his pigs were terrible, mind you. Just familiar.

“You are a strange boy,” said the strange boy. He waited, then, “My name is Link.”

“Okay, now I can leave.” Rhett turned and began walking away, eager to put this odd encounter behind him, when Link stopped him.

“Hey!”

When Rhett looked back, Link was leaning up against his cottage, and for a split second, Rhett swore he saw purple flames dancing at his fingertips. He blinked, and they were gone. Link was watching him, however, cool blue eyes challenging. “Aren’t you going to come in?” he cooed.

Rhett wanted to say, _No thank you, I should be getting back_ , but the boy was unhelpfully suave. His cocky smirk was inviting in more ways than one, and Rhett swallowed thickly. He took a moment not to answer, keeping his eyes on Link who, in all honesty, didn’t seem to mind being looked at. He pursed his mouth as Rhett thought, and within that small twitch of lips, Rhett understood.

Standing right here, right in front of him, was his adventure. He’d asked whatever fates blew his way to send him something interesting, and here it was. Rhett didn’t know exactly what the boy’s intentions were, or his own for that matter, but something about him had him feeling - feeling anything - for the first time in a long time, and it was a sensation Rhett wanted to chase. Here was his something beyond his town, even if just deep in the woods, and although Rhett was nowhere near secure enough in himself to go skipping off with some forest boy, that same part of him that urged him to follow the rabbit spoke to him now as well. He had never, not once in his life, had an interaction like the one he’d just had with Link. He had never come to this part of the woods, and before today, had never seen a magic rabbit, or magic of any kind, for that matter. It was curious, the whole thing, and Rhett thought he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t take the chance.

“Alright,” he said then, walking up to Link’s lumpy cottage.

Something flickered in Link’s eyes that looked a lot like surprise, but it quickly darkened back into mischief as he slipped in front of Rhett and opened his front door. It creaked heavy, swinging to reveal a musky, but not entirely unwelcoming scent. Link disappeared into the shadowed interior, and once again, Rhett followed.

* * *

The inside of Link’s home looked much like his own in design, stone walls and stone floors, as well as in the pots and plants that hung upside-down from the low ceiling. Somehow, the cottage seemed bigger on the inside, and if Rhett didn’t know any better, he’d say it had been enchanted. However, the place differed from Rhett’s in that it was incredibly unkempt. Cobwebs laced the upper corners and almost everything was coated in a fine layer of dust, untouched. There was little empty space, as most surfaces were covered in questionable bottles and jars. Unlit candles decorated the place, their wax dripping down, sealing them in. Dried flowers and herbs sat in a basket on the counter and scattered the floor, and Rhett was fairly certain a tree had grown through a crack in the stone. Two masks hung beside the window, which was entirely blacked out by dirt. Tall shelves lined the walls, stacked to the brim with what Rhett thought were ingredients. While some contained plants and liquids, others glowed with plumes of colored smoke, perfectly suspended behind glass. A few seemed to contain dead animals, and Rhett quickly moved on once he spotted them. A cat skull sat atop thickly bound books, its dark, hollow eyes watching Rhett just as Link was. Boxes and pots joined the shelves, many of which seemed from another era. Crude labels in a language Rhett couldn’t recognize peppered the jars as well as hung in the form of a scroll stretched above the fireplace. That same fireplace was completely charred with one heavy black cooking pot in the hearth, various open jars at the base. The main table, that which Rhett and his father ate off back home, was littered in dusty bowls and goblets. There were no chairs around it, only one stone seat. Cupboards which should have been stocked with food lay open to reveal more oddities, most of which Rhett couldn’t name. Strange trinkets dotted the scene, wooden figurines and leaves strung on twine. Tools hung from the walls, but unlike Rhett’s shed, nothing resembled an axe or hammer. There was one single chair tucked away in a corner, intricate and beautifully carved but used only to house an overflowing urn of multicolored crystals. They sat in a pile beside it, and above the chair hung several charms. A coil of rope tangled loosely around a large African vase, and unfinished sketches lay partially hidden beneath scraps of fabric. Beads strung the walls and dripped down over a cove opening which Rhett assumed to contain Link’s bed. Where Rhett’s cottage had a tin washbasin, a deep marble bowl blended into the counter. It looked as though melted obsidian, a starry navy sky, twinkling with flecks of silver. No water filled it, however, and instead held a handful of smooth rocks plucked from the river. By far the most interesting piece in Link’s cottage besides this was a large stone cauldron in one corner imbedded with gems. Gold filled cracks that ran beside rubies, and if Rhett were a greedier man, he would have been desperate to break the cauldron and retrieve the gems. Something about it was more curious than anything else, and Rhett believed the cauldron to be the source of great magic, whatever kind.

He stayed silent as he observed Link’s home. He felt Link watching him all the while, but paid no heed as he wandered and gently consumed everything with hungry eyes. It was when Link spoke to him from his spot sitting atop the stone table did Rhett return his gaze to his company.

“Say something,” Link demanded.

“It looks like you haven’t had anyone in here in ten years.”

“Six, actually.”

“Interesting.”

Link swung his skinny legs off the table, bare feet dirty at the soles. “Well, there was that one little girl who came a few years ago. She rolled a ball of twine into the shadows, and I rolled it back. She never came inside, though.”

Rhett resumed studying the interior. “Hm.”

“And there have been others here and there, but they never stay for long. I like to whisper to them from the trees.”

“Mm.”

“You’re not prying for answers anymore, are you?”

Truthfully, Rhett still had thousands of questions. Who was this boy? What was all this in his house? Why was he all alone in the woods? Where were his parents? Did he have any? What kind of magic did he possess, if this was, indeed, a magical place? Was the rabbit his? Did he send it to collect Rhett? Was he even supposed to be here? And why, most importantly, did Link keep looking at him like that?!

Rhett decided to moderate his tongue and instead shot back, “You’re quite chatty for someone who hasn’t had a guest in a decade.”

Link chuckled. “Forgive me.”

Now that he was in his own space, Link seemed looser. Well, Rhett hadn’t known him long enough to make that conclusion, but by his soft eyes and the way his body slouched as he sat on the table, Rhett figured there was less reason for defense. They were both unsure of each other, that hadn’t changed, but with Rhett in his home, Link could watch him safely, and he did.

Rhett couldn’t quite meet his eyes this time, and decided to keep his back to him as he told him he didn’t mind Link’s chatter. “No, it’s fine. I like it.”

Link went silent for a moment after that. Rhett feared he might have said too much once again, but all he had was honesty.

“Tell me about your village,” Link said.

Turning back to him, Rhett replied, “There’s not much to tell.” He ran his fingers through the dust in the obsidian basin as he said, “They think you’re a ghost.”

Link laughed again, low and husky. “I’ve heard that.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “But you thought that too, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you are.”

No answer.

“I’d like you to tell me,” Rhett offered. “After all, I am the first person you’ve had to talk to in ages. Might as well just come clean.”

Link smiled then, the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth, and Rhett felt himself smile too. Strange, how easy it was to talk to this boy when Rhett struggled to even say good morning to his neighbors.

Link jumped down from the table and stretched his arms above his head. His black tunic peeked up as he groaned, revealing a stretch of skin at his torso. His bony hips poked out above the silver string tie of his trousers, and Rhett felt hot in his face and glanced away. He himself was grateful to be wearing his second-best tunic, though it was just as dusty as the first. All the same, for a reason he couldn’t quite place, he hoped his arms looked good. He rubbed at them nervously as Link sauntered forward.

“What do you think I am?” he teased.

“Oh no,” Rhett straightened himself up tall as Link came close, looking up at him with those eyes, those _eyes._ “We’re not doing that anymore. Just tell me what you are.”

“Fine. I’m a sorcerer. Happy?”

Rhett’s stomach coiled then erupted in butterflies. “A sorcerer?”

“Y’know, magic, witchcraft.” Link leaned in. Rhett could see his dark eyelashes. “Spells, hexes, chants. All that.”

It all made sense. The jars of strange items, those must have been potions or the makings of. And the cauldron… He should have known from the start, truthfully, but he wasn’t the kind to understand the nuances of magical beings. Hell, he thought superstitious people were pushing it. Here and now, though, he didn’t want any other answer. A sorcerer. Of course.

Rhett wanted to sit down. “You practice magic out here in the woods?”

“Used to.” Link shrugged. “Almost got caught a few times.”

This comment earned Rhett a thousand new questions. Link must have been casting spells when rumor of the phantom spread. All this time, everyone in his village feared a ghostly thief spooking travelers, when really it was just a magical twenty-year-old with an affinity for pranks. At least, Rhett thought he was twenty. He looked it, anyway.

Of all the things Rhett wanted to know about sorcery, he found himself wanting to ask about Link instead. First he asked for tea.

“Tea?” Link gave him a look then shook his head. “I can turn water to tea, if you like.”

Rhett’s heart sparked. “Really? Ah, leaves are fine.”

“Okay.” Link moved towards the basin and pulled a crudely carved crystal mug from the shelf. Rhett watched silently as Link opened a satchel of dried leaves and sprinkled some into the mug. Then he went to the hearth and kneeled down to light the fire. Rhett discovered two dimples at his tailbone as he bent forward, then made a small gasp as Link snapped his fingers and sparked the kindling below the pot. He removed the heavy pot with ease and replaced a grate and kettle. It was quiet as he did all of this, and as more silence went between them, the more comfortable Rhett felt.

Here he was, with a magical boy he barely knew, and yet he was already making him tea. Perhaps this could be a friendship after all, Rhett thought.

Link returned to him and told him to take a seat. Rhett sat on the lonely stone stump as Link leapt back onto the table. They looked at each other for a moment, then burst into a fit of snickers.

“This is weird,” Rhett said.

“I know. I’ve never made tea for anyone before.” Link seemed a tad bashful about this, and Rhett studied the pink in his cheeks like it was the last thing he’d ever see. And God, what a beautiful sight.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Link changed the subject. “Anyway. Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Are your parents sorcerers too?”

“Anything but that.”

“What, why not?”

Link squeezed his thighs and took a breath. “I’m in training still, but I don’t have anyone to teach me. I do what I can, but I’m not yet strong enough.”

Rhett picked at some candle wax on the table. He didn’t want to know what Link wasn’t yet strong enough for. “What kind of spells do you practice?”

Leaning back, that sneaky stretch of skin revealed itself once again. “Well,” Link started, “Small stuff mostly. Transfiguration, useless charms. I’ll make potions or ask the spirits something.”

“And what do they have to say?”

Link smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mister I-didn’t-mean-to-disturb-you? The spirits know all, and they won’t give you an answer unless you’ve got a clear question first.”

“How do you talk to them? Is it ghosts?”

“Ghosts are one type of entity. I consider the spirits part of the universal consciousness. There are energies, there are the fates, there are spirits. Everything is connected.”

Rhett found himself hanging on Link’s every word, spouting off questions just to hear his voice again. “But how do you talk to them?”

“You call on them.” Link straightened out and spread out his arms. “O spirits of fire, earth, wind, and water, spirits of all that is and all that will be, spirits of that which we cannot comprehend, I call upon you. I am Link, young sorcerer of few names, and I open the connection between our worlds with the utmost respect. If you are willing to communicate, if you are present, please give us a sign. I do not ask much of you, and release you henceforth.”

Rhett held his breath and waited. Link kept his eyes closed, chest puffed up, expectant. Rhett swallowed timidly and glanced about the room. After a moment, the beads at the cove opening rattled in an unfelt wind. Link smirked.

“Thank you, spirits. I no longer call upon you. I close the bridge.” He brought his palms together and waited. “Like that.”

Awestruck, Rhett blinked. “Wow, that was… What else can you do?”

“I can do a lot, I guess. But I can’t, I can’t… The tea!” Link hopped off the table and went to fix Rhett’s tea, leaving his thought hanging. He tipped the kettle to meet the mug and steam rose from the water. Loose tea leaves floated to the top and Link swirled his finger in the air. The water began to whirl in the same direction, leaves unfurling and darkening into a sweet-smelling tea. When Link brought the mug to Rhett, it seemed he didn’t want to talk about magic anymore. How Rhett knew that, he couldn’t quite say.

Rhett took the mug and let it warm his hands. The crystal was smooth against his palms. He waited for the tea to cool, looked up at Link, and asked, “So what do you do for fun?”

Link leaned over and twirled his finger again. The leaves in Rhett’s mug followed, and Rhett’s cheeks went warm. “I don’t know,” Link said. “Usually I’ll just mix a new potion or…”

“No. I mean, what do you do outside of magic?” What Rhett really wanted to ask was, _Don’t you have friends?_ but he considered that rather rude for someone who’d just made him tea, and coming from himself, who didn’t have any friends either, he didn’t think it absolutely necessary to mention.

“I like to draw.” Link glanced at the parchment hidden in the corner. Then he swiped a hand through the loose bangs at one side of his forehead. “Don’t know why I’m telling you all this…”

“I’m asking.” Rhett took his first sip of tea. It was earthy and sweet. He liked it very much. “Also, what have you got to eat around here?”

Link rolled his eyes as if he knew this was something Rhett might ask and returned to the stone countertop. Rhett sat and sipped his tea, thus spending the next few hours with Link doing nothing of importance at all.

* * *

Since the only window was covered in grime, it took Link opening the door to fetch more kindling for Rhett to see the sunset. He shot up, completely forgetting the passage of time, and went to Link.

“I have to go home,” he said, disappointed.

Link returned with a good amount of twigs in his arms, and Rhett decided he liked seeing Link with wood. “I’m sorry for keeping you,” he said.

Rhett followed him as he dumped the twigs beside the hearth and brushed off his hands on his trousers. “Don’t be, I came here on my own. Well, sort of.”

Link didn’t respond to that and looked past Rhett outside. “The sky is pretty when the sun sets, don’t you think?”

With Link’s eyes on the pink horizon behind him, Rhett looked down at him freely. He studied his soft eyes and strong jaw, the dark stubble there and his long, slender neck. Rhett’s gaze flicked down and lingered on Link’s broad shoulders, too broad for the small circumference of his waist. His tunic laced loosely at his sternum, black ties criss-crossing over a revealing V, and Rhett wondered where he’d found such a strange garment. It looked great on him, regardless.

Rhett didn’t know how or why, but he felt he’d seen Link before, perhaps in his dreams, perhaps in a past life. All the same, it had only been a day since meeting him, and Rhett knew he shouldn’t forget about his world back home, as much as he wanted to run. He wanted to touch Link to say goodbye, hand on his shoulder, but hesitated and walked away instead. When he got to the door, he said thank you for the tea, for the hospitality, and that it was a very interesting day indeed. Then he asked how he’d get home from here, and Link told him the woods would guide him out. Rhett believed him.

Link leaned against the stone in that same suave way which got Rhett into the cottage in the first place, turned his blue, blue eyes on him, and said, “Will you come again?” in the smallest voice Rhett had heard all day.

“Of course,” Rhett said, and he had never meant anything more in his life. Then he walked out the door and across the clearing, and when he looked back, the cottage was a mossy lump once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment below or send me an [ask](http://lovelyrhink.tumblr.com/ask) on tumblr if you're enjoying the story so far! I'm a lonely bitch hungry for the scraps of your approval, but I don't bite ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There seemed to be a slight buzz of energy coming from the book, and Rhett was fascinated.

Link had been right, the woods had guided him out. When Rhett broke through the forest clearing, the sun had set completely. Where the sky was once pink, soft gray light washed over the cottages in the valley, Rhett’s included. Navy night spilled down from the heavens and met the gray in a purple fade, a beautiful mix of sky which Rhett may have previously disregarded. After meeting Link, however, everything was new. The air had never tasted better.

As Rhett headed back towards his house and out of the shadows, he spotted his father in the field, ushering the last of their sheep into their pen. Rhett didn’t think it right to sneak by him, as he didn’t have much to hide anyway, and decided to meet him in the field. If his father noticed him coming, he didn’t show it, and instead kept his back to him, eyes on the neighboring farms. Darkness fell quickly, as if the night was a weight and the earth was a magnet, and by the time Rhett made it to his father, he couldn’t make out the trees on the horizon.

Rhett stood quietly before his father. Oliver put one calloused hand on the wooden fence, the other on his hip, and turned to him. “Ahoy,” he said.

“Hello,” replied Rhett.

It was quiet for a moment as Rhett’s father studied him, perhaps checking for damages, perhaps just building the tension. He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed torturing people, not in the slightest, and Rhett knew he wasn’t in trouble for sneaking off. His father probably had questions, but he wasn’t going to punish him. Rhett assumed he’d ask where he’d been, to which Rhett wasn’t sure he had an answer. He was still a bit dazed from meeting Link and wasn’t entirely convinced it had actually happened.

Instead, his father surprised him by mentioning Rhett’s mother. “You’re just like her, you know. She sought adventure too.”

Something went tight in Rhett’s stomach; they rarely ever spoke of Diana. They tried not to remember the fact that she was missing, that their lives would certainly be brighter and full of song if she had survived. She didn’t, though, and this left Rhett and his father alone. They were alone now in the field, a few chirping insects their only music.

“I didn’t know that,” Rhett said in his usual monotone. As incredible as the day had been, something about his village brought him back to a stasis, and Rhett felt blue once again.

“She was a wild thing,” Oliver continued. “She was halfway to space when I met her. I fell in love with her because she saw something beyond. I know you do too.”

Rhett didn’t know what to say.

“I know you want to run away, or least find something else. I don’t blame you.”

Rhett still didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing and let his father speak.

“I don’t mind if you disappear every now and then, hell, I’m used to it. But you do have duties, you are committed to this farm.”

“I know,” Rhett said.

“You do good work, son, and I know you would never abandon us.” He meant the animals and crops, but Rhett sensed an underlying trace of his mother, as she had run the farm and raised the livestock just as they did now, without her.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Wherever you go, just come back before I do to let the animals in. Come back in time for supper.”

“I will.”

Oliver put his hand on his son’s shoulder and gave him a small smile. “I’m not mad at you, son. I just don’t want you to lose your head.”

“I won’t.” It seemed all Rhett could do when his father got sentimental was maintain direct response: _I know, I will, I won’t._ If he dwelt on the fact that his father was the best person he’d ever known and the sole reason their shoddy little farm survived, his numb heart would cave in on itself.

He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings, but Oliver knew that. He clapped Rhett’s shoulder twice more then pointed toward the dark horizon.

“There’s a little town over there, and it’s only one small part of a very large world, but it’s ours, and we have to do right by it.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, boy. You are your mother’s son. Sometimes I forget that.”

At this rate, if his father kept mentioning his mother, Rhett surely would collapse in on himself. He gave a genuine, yet somewhat weak, smile and said, “I’ll be home in time for supper, I promise.”

“Good. Now get in the house, the bugs are starting to rouse.”

* * *

The next morning, things between Rhett and his father had balanced out. Rhett awoke early, just before sunrise, to complete his work with gusto. He collected the eggs, fed the chickens, sheep, and pigs, and checked on the crops. He did the laundry and threw out the old water, hung up the clothes and even scrubbed the kitchen. He wanted to remind himself of his true loyalties, or as his father had said, his duties, so he did like a good farmboy and finished all his chores before breakfast.

As the morning settled, everything was as it always was, but Rhett’s world had changed. The day before, he’d met someone who had more interesting things to talk about than baguettes and spring weddings, and as much as Rhett wanted to honor his father and their farm, he was itching to get back to the woods. He was itching to get back to Link.

But what if Rhett’s doubt was right, what if none of it had even happened? How could it be that just as Rhett longed for something else, something else arrived? It seemed too good to be true, and Rhett begged himself not to lose his head. However, as the morning went on, the thoughts in Rhett’s head wandered back into the woods and lost themselves instead.

He stirred his barley porridge disinterested and deep in fantasy. He recalled the entire encounter and everything that was said. With a night of sleep between him and Link, he found himself having delayed reactions, surprised at himself for taking Link’s invitation into his cottage, for staying there so long.

If he had known better, the moment that dark-haired imp called out to him, he would have regarded him as a ghost and ran back to the village. Of course, that’s not what he truly wanted. What he wanted to do was everything he’d done, and he was strangely proud of himself, as if being around someone new made his own characteristics unrecognizable. He might have been stupid in telling Link his real name and asking for tea, or he may have been terribly intelligent. That was what scared him, really. The thought that he was meant to find Link, and that in doing so, may have found more of himself, too.

Or something less sappy than that.

When Rhett finished his breakfast, and by finished I mean tried not to feel guilty about losing his appetite and pouring the rest of it into the pig’s slop, he hung around his farm for a bit and changed his clothes before setting off into town. He didn’t need to go into town for anything, really, but it was better than going back to the woods, which he wasn’t quite ready to do just yet (although he knew he’d do it at some point that day).

In a fresh tunic and trousers now, Rhett set off down the familiar valley path and passed the stone houses that looked just like his. As always, June was out and about doing her morning chores and gave him a far-too-sweet-for-what-he-thought-he-deserved smile and called out to him.

“Morning, handsome,” she said. Rhett noticed that her braids were tied with red ribbons today. He complimented them. “Oh, these? Just a little something. Don’t have to save your best stuff for a special occasion, you know. Make today special.”

Rhett considered it. “That’s very wise.”

She giggled. Rhett didn’t know of anyone who giggled as much as June. “Could be wise, or just bored. Sometimes it’s nice to change things up.”

“Hear, hear.”

“So, where are you off to today? Back to the library? Or have you got a moment to spare for a cup of tea?”

A cup of tea. Now, where once the thought of Link and his questionably magical shack lingered dull at the back of his mind, memory of the boy and his self-swirling tea pushed to the front, right up behind Rhett’s eyes. He could see June, smiling at him, asking him, like always, to give her something more than a friendly hello, but Rhett was stuck on the image of Link sauntering towards him with a cup of tea in one hand and a dangerously playful grin at his lips.

“Thank you, but I’m off to town. I’ve got to pick up some bread.” It wasn’t a lie, but Rhett had forgotten about the bread until this very moment. Now he was glad he actually had a reason to leave.

The playful quirk in June’s eyes fell and Rhett felt terrible about it. June was so good to him, he wished he felt the same way. “Maybe on the way back, then? Evening tea.”

“Evening tea,” Rhett repeated.

Now, while Rhett did not quite understand the nuances of romance, he wasn’t an idiot. He could see that June fancied him, and he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. It was nice, being called handsome, offered tea, but something about her voice fell flat in Rhett’s heart (as did most things). She was pretty and kind and knew better than anyone the ruins of their provincial farm life, but Rhett did not fancy her. Maybe he would, someday. Perhaps he’d be walking down this same dirt path and June would call to him and he would see her anew, beautiful yet humble in her ribbon braids and apron. He’d go up to her and she’d swoon and they’d be married, and Rhett’s father would invent something to tell everyone of their engagement and they’d be back to baguettes and spring weddings once again.

It was a good future, and perhaps just what he needed to ground himself in this life and not go galavanting off into the woods. The only problem was… He wanted to galavant off into the woods.

Rhett was about to set off, Link already there at the corners of his mind, when he stopped himself and bent down. He picked the prettiest flower (weed) from the side of the road and gave it to June. “You are lovely,” he said. “I’d be happy to have tea with you, but perhaps tomorrow? There’s something I’ve got to do tonight.”

June wiped her hands on her apron nervously before taking the flower. Her cheeks were pink and the playful shine in her eyes had grown three times the size. She smelled the petals as it wasn’t the same damn flower that sprouted all over her farm and looked at Rhett through flirty lashes. “Okay, tomorrow.”

Rhett grinned at her, a big grin, the type of grin a boy would give a girl after scoring a date, then set off for real. He figured he’d spent too long being cold to June for no reason. She was a sweet girl, and she didn’t deserve the butt of his unhappiness. And who knows, perhaps he’d fall for her over tea and stay out of trouble.

Rhett wiped his hands on the back of his trousers as he turned onto the dirt path towards town. He liked trouble.

* * *

After he’d bought a few loaves of bread and said hello to Willie, he headed back home. June wasn’t in the yard, and the quiet district was lonely without her.

In the time it’d taken Rhett to cross from his house to town and back again, he’d lost himself even deeper in the fantasy of Link. He wasn’t quite sure about the boy, that was certain, but there was something there that urged him to see it through. He had to return, speak to Link again, and determine for real why on earth Rhett had stumbled upon him. He assumed, or rather, hoped, that it was some surge of destiny, that Link was integral in his search for adventure. This, he already knew, though he was still in the dark about what he himself felt about Link. He was gorgeous, prettier than any boy he’d ever swooned over in town, but he was mysterious. Link had said he was dangerous, and Rhett believed him. Anyone imbued with magic surely would be, evil tendencies or no. Still, Rhett knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he peeled back all the layers of that boy from the woods and unraveled his history. Sorcery, magic, potions, spells - he had to know. Link was an endless fountain of something new, something else, and Rhett was, for lack of a better term, parched.

As he spun the memory of the day previous on an eternal loop, Rhett found himself stuck on certain instances. The way Link looked at him, for example, or his cheeky, knowing grin. The fact that Link had invited him into his home, but only him. Link had served him tea and told him of his magical history simply because Rhett was there to listen. He seemed comfortable around Rhett, or more than Rhett would have been with a stranger, and conversation was easy. They talked for hours, long enough that Rhett forgot his duties here on the farm, and it seemed both of them had parted slightly disappointed. He didn’t know what to make of that, but for the smallest sliver of a moment, he considered the possibility that he may have, foolishly, fallen for the boy.

Well, maybe. Maybe he was just curious, maybe he was replaying a scene that meant more to him than it did to Link. Maybe he was claiming his feelings (the fickle villains) too soon after one meeting. Maybe he had no idea what he was feeling at any given moment and just assumed he liked Link because Link didn’t live in his village. Really, it was all too confusing and new to tell, so Rhett wrinkled his nose and thought better of it. He didn’t have feelings for him, of course not. He didn’t even know him! The boy was a new adventure, and that was it.

All the same, Rhett had never felt anything akin to what he felt when he finally returned to the woods. He splashed some water on his face before entering the forest, though this time there was no shimmering silver rabbit to guide his way. If he was going to find Link, then he’d have to find him on his own. If in fact the boy was real, of course.

Regardless, the woods were real, and real irritating at that. Rhett had no idea which trees he’d passed or what ferns he’d stepped through as he wove desperately through the grove. Redwoods loomed tall over the shady earth, their green pines falling loose and drifting on the wind. The trees which had not survived the winter crumpled low and gnarled, their bare branches resembling veins. It was fortunate the woods behind Rhett’s cottage were more damp and earthy than rugged and rocky, but the dearth of landmarks such as boulders had Rhett seemingly lost. The trees looked the same in every direction, and as Rhett pushed deeper into the woods, he tried, weakly, to recreate the rabbit’s path.

He felt he was doing alright, but would soon lose himself in shadowed places. When this happened, he stopped and tried to feel one with the trees. He listened for the river, constant, and kept to the right of it. All was quiet in the woods save for the distant water and gentle breeze. Rhett felt the wind on his face and arms and wondered if it was the spirits guiding him. Hopefully they’d lead him towards Link’s cottage, if that was the case, and not off a cliff like a tricky demon. He cursed himself for even thinking it.

Rhett wandered through the forest for a total of twelve minutes, but it seemed much longer than that. Yesterday, the woods had pulled him in, a beckoning force of _Come this way,_ but now, he was alone, and the woods did not help him. When he finally found Link’s cottage, it resembled the mossy lump. As he got closer, the perception shifted as if by magic (you think?), and the cottage came through. With an elated but somewhat terrified sense in his stomach, Rhett approached. It was real, then. The mysterious cottage, yes, its inhabitant? Not yet confirmed.

He stood before the round wooden door. He took a deep breath. Why was he nervous? He told himself it was because Link could turn on him in an instant, say, _I’ve never met you, I didn’t invite you here, leave me alone._ Rhett decided it was worth the risk and raised his fist to knock. Three solid knocks, then he waited.

Rhett swallowed thickly. He shouldn’t have come, not without warning. Link didn’t answer the door. He shouldn’t have come, not at all.

As Rhett waited, he studied the clearing around Link’s cottage and wondered if Link was home. He might have been practicing magic; Rhett might have interrupted him.

Before Rhett’s anxious thoughts could spiral into the fear that he had disturbed Link during a spell and caused him to accidentally fall into the cauldron and cook himself, the young sorcerer opened the door.

“You came back,” he said, wearing his most beautiful smile.

Rhett’s heart fluttered and the knot in his stomach coiled tight. Link was more handsome than he’d remembered, and a beauty like his wasn’t easily forgotten. Link pressed his cheek to the door and leaned on it. His eyes moved lazily from one side of Rhett’s face to the other, and Rhett could see his reflection in the blue, staring back stupidly.

“I did,” he said, glancing down to Link’s lips. They were shiny and plump. Rhett flicked his tongue.

Link straightened up. “Did you bring me anything?”

Rhett went hot with embarrassment. “Uh, no, I didn’t, sorry. Was I supposed to?”

“No, but it would have been nice.”

“Next time. I’ll bring you ingredients for your spells.” Rhett felt himself smiling.

“Oh, you’ll bring me newt’s tongue and coyote urine? That would actually be a big help, thank you.”

Rhett blanched.

“Just kidding. Come on, you’re making me nervous.” Link pulled him inside by the forearm and shut the door behind him. He didn’t move out of the way as Rhett entered, thus keeping them pressed close in the doorway. Rhett towered over him and could see the uneven part in his shaggy hair. Link looked up, and Rhett glanced away. Link then turned and lead Rhett into the cottage.

“So,” Link continued, “What have you been up to since I last saw you?”

Rhett didn’t answer, for he didn’t hear the question. Just as he had the day before, Rhett admired Link’s home. This time, however, he found it meticulously cleaned and organized. Where dust once covered every surface, granite stone gleamed smooth, and all the pots and jars had returned to the shelves. The fireplace was clear of soot and the obsidian basin sparkled. Crystals and ornamentals glittered among the walls and ceiling, suspended by nothing. The place also felt fresh, not musty, as if the air had gone cool and thin. The windows had been scraped of their funk and sunlight streamed through, though Rhett had not seen windows on the outside of the cottage. A breeze whisked by, perhaps from the windows or maybe breathing through the cool stone, and the whole place felt bigger. There was also a second chair now, a big mahogany one, at the large stone table. Rhett wondered if it was for him.

“…spare time?” Link was saying as he leaned against the kitchen countertop. Rhett tuned in just a tad too late, so he asked Link to repeat himself.

“What did you say?”

“I said I realized I hadn’t asked you anything about yourself yesterday.” This was true. “And I wanted to know what you do in your spare time.”

“Oh.” Rhett rubbed the back of his neck. Link gestured for him to sit at the mahogany chair, and when he did, Link sat adjacent on his stool. He blinked at Rhett patiently, ready to listen. “Well,” Rhett started, “I like to read.”

“Go on.”

“I tend my father’s farm, we have animals and crops, and my father is an inventor. Or, he wants to be. We live on the outskirts of town, right next to the woods, and it’s quiet. In my spare time I like to go into town and visit the library or shops. There’s also a nice grassy cliff overlooking the valley.” Rhett would have felt foolish repeating all this information as if it were a personal file if Link hadn’t seemed so utterly fascinated. He plopped his cheeky face in his hands and kept his eyes on Rhett.

“What do you like to read?” he asked.

“Everything, anything. I’ve read everything in the library at least once; it’s hard to find new books.”

Link sat up. “I have some.”

“You do?”

“Spellbooks. Old, heavy things. And some fantasy.”

Rhett laughed. “You read fantasy?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Link tucked a piece of dark hair behind his ear, but it just popped out again.

“I don’t know, you’ve already got magic. People read fantasy because they don’t.”

Link pulled his knee up to his chest. Rhett felt he was too far away across the stone table, so he put his hands on it in an attempt to get closer. “It is funny,” Link said, “the way people write sorcery. It’s always these ancient guys with white beards in long purple cloaks.”

“You haven’t met any sorcerers like that?”

“No, I have. It’s just funny.”

Rhett swept his hands over the stone in curved patterns and looked down, cheeks pulling tight in a hidden smile. When he looked back up, Link was watching him, one eyebrow quirked playfully.

“I like the stories about knights and princesses,” Link continued. “Kingdoms and castles and dragons… Mythical beasts.”

Rhett was really smiling now. “Me too.”

“I can show you, if you like. My books.”

There weren’t too many things you could say to a Rhett McLaughlin to make a Rhett McLaughlin adore you. This happened to be one of them. “I’d like that.”

Link rose from the table and disappeared behind the beaded entrance to his bedroom. Rhett craned to look and caught a glimpse of Link pulling a thick brown spine from a bookshelf. He added a few more on top of it and brought them out. He set them down on the table in heavy thump and leaned over. This brought his face close to Rhett’s shoulder, and Rhett found he smelled like ice and mint.

“Here,” Link said, pushing the small books off the thick brown one. “My spellbook.”

The cover was, unsurprisingly, an image of a fat black cauldron. It sat raised amongst gold lining, and the title, an unrecognizable ancient script, was in thick gold as well. Rhett ran his hands over the ridges, the edges, the pages. It was almost as if the letters raised up even further under his touch, like a cat begging to be pet. There seemed to be a slight buzz of energy coming from the book, and Rhett was fascinated. He’d always regarded books as live creatures, or at least standstill portals with worlds bound within them, but this book seemed to truly breathe. Link watched him as Rhett admired the front cover for far too long, then reached over Rhett to open it. When he did, a plume of dust rose from the spine and the pages rustled in an unfelt breeze. The book landed open on an enchantment spell for shoes.

“Shoes?” Rhett asked.

“Read it to me,” Link said, settling in beside Rhett on his stool which had magically appeared beneath his bottom.

“‘ _The Cobbler’s Curse,’”_ Rhett began. “‘Particularly helpful for vagabonds.’”

Link kept his eyes on Rhett’s face, intimately close, as Rhett traced the black letters. Some of it was in that same language which hung above Link’s fireplace, but there was an English translation as well. Rhett swallowed and continued to read.

“‘You may have found in your travels that your shoes give way too easily. Even the sturdiest wooden clogs will wear themselves out on the feet of a vagabond, as he is likely to travel over various types of terrain. This simple enchantment will strengthen the shoes of the wearer to indestructible, never wearing out, with no discomfort. When cast correctly, the shoes should also then obtain a magic which makes them walk when their wearer has grown weary, perfect for travel by foot. However, be warned, if the wearer should fall asleep while wearing the shoes, he may find himself transported by their own accord. Cast with caution.’” Rhett huffed a breath. “Wow, is this real? No, wait, I know it is. Amazing.”

“Isn’t it?” Link reached over and put his hand on the page, dangerously close to Rhett’s. Rhett didn’t flinch. “I used this one back before we moved here. Now there’s no need for it.” Link stuck his grubby bare foot up in the air.

Rhett chuckled, then said, “I would love to have shoes like this.”

Link bent down to look under the table at Rhett’s muddy boots. “I can do it for you.”

The butterflies in Rhett’s stomach erupted once again, this time dancing up to his heart. “That would be…” he started, too amazed to continue as Link tugged his chair out from the table and pushed on his knees so his feet sat flat and even on the floor. Rhett said nothing but watched in lovely admiration as Link leaned back over to look at the page.

“Haven’t done this one in a while, hold on.” He muttered the words of the spell under his breath as he read then said, “Ah, okay, here we go.” Link raised his hands as he’d done when calling the spirits and closed his eyes. Rhett’s breath felt shallow and nervous in his chest as Link repeated a chant in a language he didn’t understand. It sounded like Latin mixed with something else, something deep and wonderful. Golden lightning appeared at the palms of Link’s hands, small and crackling against his skin. Rhett wondered if it hurt, but by the calm look on Link’s face as he continued to repeat the spell, he thought probably not.

When Link had said the ancient chant three times, he surged his hands forward and lightning shot from his palms down into Rhett’s boots. Rhett watched the gold sparks dance over his feet as the boots thickened, scuff marks and tears sealing themselves up, dark leather going clean and sturdy. The last of the lightning faded, and Rhett felt like a new man. His boots had grown and hardened around his feet, impenetrable, but inside, they were as soft as clouds. Rhett had never felt so comfortable, even as the boots had molded to the shape of his feet through the years. Link was smiling, brushing his hands on his trousers like a job well done.

Rhett stood, and the boots held his tall weight better than they ever had. He felt completely supported, and in knowing that the boots would never break down, he wanted more than ever to run away and explore the world.

“Sharp,” Link said, roaming his eyes from Rhett’s beard to his feet and back again. “How do they feel?”

“Incredible. Thank you so much.”

“Bah,” Link waved his hand. “A small compensation for the welcome company.”

Rhett beamed. He felt the urge to hug Link, but he resisted. Instead, he asked, “Do all spells require chants?”

Link climbed back on the table and sat with his legs spread, bare feet dangling. “Not if you memorize them. Most of the easy ones don’t, but something like that which changes the actual composition of an object requires more thought. Plus, I don’t know it by heart.”

“You did good,” Rhett said, looking down at the toe of his boot. He bumped it against the stone floor; it felt like steel.

They fell in silence for a moment after that, both looking at Rhett’s feet. When they looked up again, they met eyes and something a lot like the lightning spell crackled between them, electric. “You want to go outside?” Link asked then. “Try out your new boots?”

Rhett didn’t know that was what he needed, to be outside, and it was a perfect recommendation. “Yes,” he said, “Do you know of any good spots?”

“Honey,” Link said, and Rhett blushed, “these are my woods. I _created_ the good spots.”

He then led Rhett out of the cottage and back into the woods, Rhett trailing along behind in his perfect, indestructible boots.

* * *

Link brought Rhett to a beautiful clearing beside the river. It felt good to be by water, out in the fresh air. Link looked even more handsome by the natural light of the woods than he did the magical glow of his home, as if sitting here in the dirt, verdant trees all around them, was where he was meant to be. Rhett supposed it was.

The river rushed by, crashing white over rocks and ridges but tantalizingly clear in the shallows. Rhett felt the spray on his face as he leaned over, breathing in the mist. The woods loomed mysterious at the other side of the river, shadowed trunks and a throng of leaves. Where they sat, it was smooth, two big rocks, one smaller than the other, amongst a gentle yet hidden clearing. Link sat on the big rock and folded his legs under him. He had a little bit of dark hair on the tops of his feet, and Rhett teased him about it.

Besides the two of them, the river, and the spirits, they were completely alone. Rhett asked Link how many people came by here on a daily basis.

“None, really. The main road linking your town to the one over is that way, people end up here when they wander towards the river. Travelers, virgins in white dresses and their unicorns. I don’t mind as much as it seemed I did when we first met.”

“What, you actually like people?”

“Wouldn’t go that far, but it can get lonely.” Link’s eyes fell to the river, and for the first time, he looked melancholy.

Rhett didn’t know why he asked what he did next. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Link laughed. “No.”

Rhett was silent.

“Do you?” Link asked back.

Rhett thought of June. “No.”

Then it was silent again, river rushing static between them. Rhett changed the subject. “Have you ever seen a unicorn?”

“Once, back where I used to live.”

“And where was that?”

It seemed Link was about to withhold his personal history again, but instead he said, “This little village called Mariot in East England. It was full of magical people. One day, this dark, cloaked figure-“

“Ooh, spooky.”

“Shut up. He came to the bar where my friend worked and told him he had a unicorn tied up outside. My friend didn’t think that was very kind, as unicorns are wild magical creatures, and asked the figure what he was going to do with it.” Link shuddered. Rhett didn’t want to ask what the figure was going to do with it. “Anyway, once the figure was passed out drunk on ale, my friend stole the unicorn and brought her to my house. He showed me and asked me if I would help set her free. So we did.”

“Did he get in trouble?”

“Yeah.” Link didn’t elaborate.

“What did it look like?”

“White, with a silver mane. In the sunlight, its coat had a pretty pink-purple sheen. And I remember the horn was bigger than I thought it’d be, long and spiraled. Her eyes were so wild, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to capture one.”

“So you set her free?”

“In the woods, yeah. We untied her and watched her run off like a little silver flame into the shadows. Never saw it again, I hope the hooded figure didn’t either.”

The story was over. Rhett didn’t say anything else. For a while, they just sat in comfortable silence, every now and then asking each other questions about their lives before they met. Which, somehow, had only been a day before.

Rhett decided to leave a good while before the sun set this time, and bid Link farewell feeling confident in his new boots. He promised he’d come again, as much as Link wanted him to.

Link was bashful as he said, “Whenever is good. I’ll be here.”

He looked up at Rhett with those big blue eyes, and for the second time since parting the day before, Rhett wanted to touch him goodbye. This time, he let himself. He pulled Link in for a hug, taller than him but somehow fitting perfectly. Link hesitated for half a second before his hands went around Rhett’s sides and gripped the tunic on his back. Rhett’s heart was racing and his mind was blank, but not so blank that he missed the feeling of Link’s tight little waist beneath his arms. Link breathed into him and clung tight, and when Rhett pulled back, both their faces were red.

“I’m glad I met you,” Rhett whispered.

“Me too,” Link replied.

Rhett put a hand on his shoulder the way his father had done to him, then finally turned and left. His sturdy boots carried him far, far from the boy who enchanted them, and as much as Rhett wished they would, they didn’t bring him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor June, she's the real victim of this story. She's just crushin' on the cute, depressed farmboy and has no idea he's falling for someone else...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now they revolved around each other like two stars in a binary system, unafraid to mix light.

Just as Rhett promised, he had tea with June the day after he’d hugged Link goodbye. He showed up at her front gate after he’d finished his chores and tried, unsuccessfully, to put the sorcerer out of his mind when she came to greet him.

She was all smiles, as per usual, except this time, she was getting what she wanted. Rhett had come to have tea with her, finally crossing the line past mere neighbors. As she approached Rhett, he noticed that she was still wearing red ribbons in her braids, and her blouse and skirt were nicer than any she’d worn before. She wore no apron, and though Rhett wasn’t sure, as he didn’t spend nearly as much time looking at June’s lips as he did at Link’s, it seemed she had rubbed something red on them to make them pop. It worked, but it was also a little off-putting. Rhett was used to a farm girl in muddy boots with a basket of laundry on her hip, and this June was clearly something else.

“Hi,” she said flirtatiously, meeting Rhett on the other side of the wooden gate.

“Good morning.” Unlike June, Rhett couldn’t be bothered to change his clothes, though he did have brand-spankin’-new enchanted boots. He bumped the steel toe against the ground.

“Come on in, please.” June opened the gate for him, and for the first time, Rhett entered the yard which he had only ever seen from the other side of the fence. It wasn’t much different.

Leading him along the dirt path and into her home, June seemed to buzz with happy energy. Rhett couldn’t say he matched it, but he was interested to see what happened. She let him inside the cottage and closed the door behind him, smiling up into his tall frame, close enough that Rhett could see her faint brown freckles. She was very pretty, but Rhett was still weirded out by her red mouth.

Her parents’ cottage resembled his own, though with more fresh flowers and brighter colors. He seemed to remember June having an older brother, but rumor had it he went off to a neighboring kingdom to seek his fortune. Rhett wished he could have tagged along. Here and now, however, it was his courteous duty to have tea with a lovely farm girl, and that in itself wasn’t a bad way to live.

June turned to him and pulled on one of her braids. “So this is my house…”

Rhett put his hands on his hips. “It’s nice.”

She smiled again, always smiling, and showed Rhett the dining table. A saucer with a tea kettle and two ceramic cups sat waiting for them. Rhett didn’t know why, but it made him uncomfortable that everything was set up. It shouldn’t have, but it did. He rolled his shoulders and tried to loosen up, telling himself it was just a cup of tea, as they took their places at either side of the table.

June fluffed her skirts and reached for the kettle. She poured them both some tea, and then they resolved into conversation that, in all honesty, isn’t worth dictating and something I’m sure you don’t actually care about. It was pleasant conversation and a touch of flirting on June’s end, and while Rhett wasn’t anything other than a respectful guest, to anyone with working eyes, it was clear the two weren’t on the same page.

When they finished their second cup of tea, an herb tea that was far too bitter (Rhett didn’t like it, but he drank it anyway), Rhett decided to apologize for being rude to her in the past.

This, of course, June denied completely, “No, not at all!” and told him he was the perfect gentlemen. Rhett didn’t know about that, so he apologized anyway. 

“I should have had tea with you a long time ago,” he said. “This is nice. I’m sorry I didn’t, I just… have some stuff going on. It’s hard for me to get involved in anything outside farming right now.”

June nodded like she understood, but Rhett didn’t think she did.

“I would like to keep having tea with you, every now and then,” he wrung his hands together, then added, “…as friends.”

June’s face fell. It broke Rhett’s heart, but he’d decided before he even walked through her front gate that the only person he wanted to be having tea with was Link, and he didn’t want to force himself in faking it.

June tugged on a braid. “I understand,” was all she said. She rose from the table and wiped at her mouth, the last of the red fading away. Rhett took that as a sign to leave.

At the door, June stopped him and asked, “Is there another girl?”

Rhett said no, there wasn’t. He left feeling terrible.

* * *

Weeks passed. In those weeks, Rhett visited Link every day. He learned the quickest way through the woods to get to Link’s cottage, as well as what time of day Link preferred he come. They spent so much time together, learning all they could about one another, that soon, they were the best of friends. However, the one thing Link refused to talk about was his parents, or lack thereof. Rhett knew not to ask, and everything was fine.

Actually, everything was better than fine. As the weeks went on, Rhett and Link grew more accustomed to each other, quirks and all. Rhett knew when Link was feeling antsy to get outside, and Link knew when Rhett needed to be alone with his books. It didn’t take Rhett very long at all to read Link’s fantasy books, which he still found funny, as Link was a fantasy all his own.

Link had enchanted the door of his cottage to unlock itself whenever Rhett arrived, and Rhett would often bring Link treats and treasures from his village. Rhett also taught Link to cook, as it seemed all he’d been eating was variant soups and grains (no wonder he was so skinny!). 

Rhett had asked him why he didn’t just _whoosh_ some food for himself, to which Link asked, “Would you like to eat food that tastes like nothing?” Rhett said no, he didn’t, and Link said, “Magical food has no substance. It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

This being the case, Rhett brought Link fresh vegetables, bread, cheese, and meats, and spent a full afternoon teaching him how to make basic meals. He was wary of Link with a carving knife, as he’d discovered Link was clumsy with everything save for magic, and would often hover over him like a protective older brother when cutting. He taught Link to slice chicken and roast vegetables, how to make thicker soups to soak delicious French bread in, and what flavors went best together. He brought him eggs and sausage and helped him make good breakfasts, and before long, Link would have a plethora of food prepared before Rhett even opened the enchanted door.

As Rhett taught Link to cook, Link taught Rhett magic in return. He showed him a few basic charms, all of which were unsuccessful, of course. Link let Rhett read his spellbook and attempt, knowing full well it wouldn’t work, to turn jars into goblets and string into lace. Rhett didn’t mind, naturally, he just liked to try.

During this time, Rhett also teased Link about his shaggy, outgrown hair and offered to cut it for him. They spent one morning, after a good breakfast of ham and potatoes, with Link sat on the stool in front of the obsidian basin, Rhett behind him with shepherd’s shears. Rhett wet his hair and smoothed his hands through it, using his own wooden comb to straighten the pieces and cut them evenly. Link sat patient and quiet as he went, eyes closed, seemingly reveling in the feeling of someone else touching his hair. It had been too long, and they both knew Link needed it. When Rhett was done, Link dried his hair with magical air, and it fell bouncy and feathered around his head, winged out at his ears. He looked very handsome, and Link hugged Rhett in thanks.

Oh, that’s also something I should mention. I must tell you, reader, as I’m sure you’re aching to know, that over time, Rhett and Link grew more comfortable touching each other. Where once Rhett was hesitant to even put a hand on Link’s shoulder, now they revolved around each other like two stars in a binary system, unafraid to mix light. Link would often smack Rhett on the arm when he said something unfunny, and Rhett’s hand would linger at the small of Link’s back as he leaned over and told him where to cut a pork slab. Hugging hello and goodbye every day became commonplace, as did a brotherly arm around the neck. They’d bump into each other, cross legs when seated, and even on one very rare occasion when sat by the river, Link lay his head on Rhett’s shoulder. Consider that what you will.

This comfort also bled into questions about Link’s abilities as a sorcerer. As Rhett understood it, Link could charm items and levitate things, mix potions, cast spells, and call upon the Great Powers. Once, Rhett asked Link if he could levitate himself, and Link said yes, if he focused. He slipped off the stone table into a lounging position, suspended in midair for only a moment, then fell into Rhett’s lap. They laughed about it, and Rhett told Link to keep working on it.

Fortunately, being friends with a sorcerer had its perks. Rhett would tell Link of his ailments, and almost every time, Link would fix him up. When Rhett told Link his father had trouble sleeping at night, Link mixed him a sleeping potion and sent him home with it. Oliver asked what it was, and Rhett told him it was a tonic he’d bought from the town over. Skeptical, his father tried it, but had no complaints the morning after, completely refreshed.

It also happened that because Rhett and Link spent so much time together, Link would continue practicing his magic when Rhett was over. Rhett would watch, wide-eyed at first, as Link tried again and again to grow a tree from a marble or enchant his crystals to sing. He cast spells on the woodland animals, harmless, of course, and admitted to Rhett that he could manipulate everything but other humans. He said he hadn’t had enough exposure, enough practice, and while Rhett offered time and time again for Link to practice enchanting him, Link always refused. So Rhett would sit, quietly reading, offering unwanted advice, as Link repeated each spell until he got it right. Link often spent hours a day slaving over his black cauldron, plumes of colored smoke rising from the stew as he dumped or pinched questionable ingredients out of jars. Rhett would be enthralled in his book, look over, and see Link plopping four wet eyeballs into the pot, or perhaps sprinkling pink, sparkling ash.

As you can tell, sorcery loses a bit of its, well, magic, after seeing it in the training stage. Link would get frustrated, as would anyone, and Rhett would always suggest they go outside and cool off. The woods were their sanctuary, isolated enough but fresh with cool air and an earthy aroma. It healed them, brought them back to the equal ground on which they first met, and provided cover from the nosy public. Link would often practice magic outside, which was half as safe and twice as fun.

Among baskets of food and souvenirs from the town shops, Rhett also decided to bring his guitar into the woods. He tucked it carefully inside its case and walked it through the forest, and when he showed it to Link, his white smile beamed bright.

“Music!” he said, immediately sitting patient, eager for Rhett to play.

And play he did. However, Rhett’s guitar was slightly out of tune, and he was afraid to try to tune it in fear of the old strings snapping. Link, ever the helpful imp, wiggled his fingers and gently tuned it for him, his magic also casting a light echo which had Rhett’s music sounding more beautiful than ever. He also offered to emblazon Rhett’s initials on the smooth wood, and of course, Rhett said yes. From then on, whenever Rhett traced the jinxed RJM with his fingers, he thought of Link.

The first time Rhett played for him, he strummed an old minstrel song his mother had taught him. Link sat at his foot and looked up with sparkling eyes, clapping fiendishly when the song was over. The second time, Rhett took him outside and played a few songs in rhythm with the rushing river, and every time after that, he tried something new. Now with a truly captive audience, no offense to Rhett’s father, Rhett could play his favorite songs slow and wonderful, even sing a little bit, too.

Albeit a bit shy, Rhett had somehow been convinced to sing, and when he did, Link looked as if he were about to faint. Rhett’s voice was deep but soft, trailing over words Link didn’t know, his tan hands plucking a sort of magic unfamiliar to the young sorcerer. Sheepishly, Rhett told Link he was working on a song of his own, but it wasn’t ready yet. Link pouted over this fact and said he wanted to hear it now. “You will,” Rhett promised. “Someday.”

And someday was sure to come, as neither of the two young men had any plans to stop seeing each other. Every day, they met, and every night, they parted. Rhett would feel a twinge of sadness when he left, but he was grateful to get back home by himself, wash up, and go to bed. Of course, even in his dreams, Link was there.

Indeed, as the days went on, the more time Rhett spent with Link, the more he showed up in his dreams. Link told him that dreams were often a portal to the spirit realm, and Rhett wondered if Link could tell when he dreamt of him. Embarrassed, he said nothing, and continued to dream in private. Privacy was necessary in regards to these dreams, in fact, as they bordered on romantic almost every time. Rhett would get hot in the middle of the night as his mind played him with thoughts of Link, what he said and did, the feel of his body in Rhett’s arms and the hum of his laughter against his neck. Fortunately, dreams are but dreams, and Rhett didn’t feel too guilty when they nearly dipped into something lusty. Nearly.

Still, day in and day out, Rhett and Link remained good friends.

* * *

We join them now in the woods by Link’s cottage, hanging out in a clearing between the trees. Link was laying casual on a smooth, flat rock, dancing colorful flames at his fingertips as he watched Rhett swing a massive silver sword around.

Rhett had found it that afternoon in Link’s bedroom, which he was now allowed to nap in, in an old leather sheath tucked behind the bookshelf. Rhett hadn’t had time to ask what it was before he was pulling the blade from the leather, jewel-encrusted hilt in his fist. His eyes went wide, and he immediately felt powerful, so he rushed to ask Link if he could play with it.

That lead them here, with Link snickering as Rhett clumsily slapped the heavy blade against the dirt. He tried to hoist it over his head, but teetered off balance and had to bring it down, sharp edge slicing the earth. Rhett was persistent in fulfilling his destiny as a knight, however, and continued to work with it until he could slash through the air and at least throw a semi-threatening jab.

Link was humming to himself and swirling little birds made from leaves above his head when Rhett took a break and asked, “Where did you get this?”

“Don’t remember. I think someone left it at my old house.”

“Oh.” Rhett studied the twisted gold hilt and the long, deathly blade. “I thought you’d say you pulled it from a lake or something.”

Link smiled. “I’m a sorcerer, not a king.”

Rhett glanced at him, his long, lean form stretched out on stone like a black cat soaking up the sun, green birds bursting into blue flames in his hands. “Wish I could be king,” he said. “Or a prince.”

“You’d make a fine prince, I think.” Link said it nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t the most incredible thing anyone had ever said to him. “Handsome in a golden crown.” Scratch that - that was.

Rhett blushed deeply, so deep he could feel it in his stomach, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you ever hear the story of Prince Colin?” he asked to keep himself from telling Link he’d look sublime in a crown as well.

“I think so, he lead the war on the Elkinore Orcs, right?”

“Yeah. His father, King Vincent, ruled a kingdom a few provinces over, and I always heard stories. Prince Colin kept the Orcs out by enlisting all the young boys who were willing to fight, not just the kingdom knights.” Rhett raised the sword as if he was one of the young boys willing to fight. “This increased their numbers almost three times, and the Orcs didn’t stand a chance.”

“Shame about the casualties, though,” Link said softly.

“There will always be casualties in war, Link. But just think, you’d be going down in history as a peasant boy rising to the honor of a knight, fighting for your kingdom!” The sun glinted off the sharp silver blade.

Link was quiet for a moment, then said, “Didn’t he also host a lot of balls?”

“Did he?”

“I heard after they won the war, he made it mandatory that they have at least one castle ball every month, inviting everyone in the kingdom, even the peasants. He also lowered taxes on commodities like bread and cloth and made it easier for people to sell their wares.”

“Sounds like a good guy,” Rhett replied, knowing well that Prince Colin was, indeed, a good guy. He had also heard that he was handsome, too. Blond and tall, green eyes. Sweet-natured. That’s the kind of prince Rhett wanted to be, a paragon of princely excellence.

Link made a content humming sound in the back of his throat, then sat up quickly, seemingly panicked. “Did you hear that?”

“No…?” Rhett waited, sword at the ready in his hands, then heard it too. It was the sound of horse hooves and wagon wheels crushing twigs. It was getting closer.

“Someone’s coming.” Link leapt from his rock and disappeared behind a tree before Rhett could blink. He looked around for sign of his friend, but found none, not even a footprint. Phantom of the woods, indeed.

Curling his fist tight around the sword, Rhett straightened up and tried to look like he wasn’t some doofus swinging a stick alone in the woods. He spent the few minutes it took for the clip-clop of the horse hooves to near by cleaning the edge of his sword of mud and returning it to the sheath. When the horse and wagon finally arrived, Rhett recognized the man at the head. It was the butcher from his town, Harvey Maverick, but everyone just called him Harv.

“Rhett? Is that you?” he said as he drew nearer, peering through slitted eyes. Their village was small, and everyone knew everyone. In fact, Rhett had bought meat from Harv not two days before, so it was no wonder when he stopped his horse before him and breathed a sigh of relief. “Mercy me,” he said. “I seem to have lost the main road.”

Rhett didn’t know how that was possible, but as he approached the wagon, he could smell the thick stench of alcohol, and he understood. Harv was known for being a bit of a drunk, but he sold good meat, so nobody really cared. However, he did cross through the woods often, as he had a mistress in the town over, but you didn’t hear that from me.

“It’s okay,” Rhett said, putting a hand on Harv’s horse and eyeing Harv’s bulbous belly. “If you follow the river, it’ll take you out by the stream behind the town. Otherwise, keep going straight that way,” Rhett pointed, “and you’ll end up by my cottage.”

Harv wiped his sweaty brow. “Thank you, boy, thanks much. Tell your father you get a free chicken cutlet, on me.”

Rhett smiled and scratched behind the horse’s ear. She whinnied. He looked to the contents of Harv’s wagon and found rolls of butcher paper tied with twine, large sacks of feed, and about six mounds of hay. Harvey was the richest man in town by far and owned a large plot of land beyond it. In his pasture, he kept fat pigs, sheep, chicken, ducks, and goats, but most impressively, cows. He was the only one in their town who owned cows, which made beef rare and expensive. Rhett wished he would have offered him a free slab of beef instead, but he knew it was unlikely.

Rhett thought he was all set to drive off after receiving directions, but he was drunk and swaying a bit in his seat. He was sweaty, eyes glazed, staring off at the mountains in the distance.

Suddenly, the wind rustled quick, and a bush near the wagon began to shake violently. Already slightly panicked, Harv looked to it and then to Rhett, tightening his fat fists around his lead. His horse stomped her hooves. The wind husked between them, sounding an awful lot like whispers. Harv flipped his head back and forth nervously, “Who’s there?”

Rhett stepped back. The wind continued to push, tearing bits of hay off the mounds and guiding them into the woods. The whispers continued, louder, a hiss that sounded suspiciously like a voice Rhett knew. He could feel it slithering around the butcher, goading, _I can sssenssse your sssinsssss…._

“Sins? I ain’t no sinner!” Harv shouted, beady eyes panicked and searching for nothing.

Ignoring his plea, the wind hissed further, words Rhett couldn’t understand but words that surely hit home for Harv, as he looked very much in pain. As the wind rocked the wagon and swarmed Harv in fear, he screwed up his face and grit his teeth. Something thumped hard against the wooden cart, relentless. Harv looked absolutely terrified, and his horse was spooked as well, shaking her head and kicking her legs. Before it could get any worse, Harv _H-yah_ ’d his horse and sped away, wagon wheels leaving deep, trembling grooves in the dirt. When he was out of sight, the wind began to laugh.

Link appeared then, keeled over in hysterics. His laugh was maniac, and Rhett glared at him.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, stern.

Link stood up straight and wiped the tears from his eyes, still giggling. “It’s fun.”

“Not for him.”

“Oh, come on. People like him deserve to be frightened.”

Rhett put space between him and Link. “People like him? That man lives in my town. He sells the meat I bring you.”

This seemed to blanch Link, just for a moment, but then he was laughing again. “Did you see his face? He was so scared.”

Rhett shook his head. “I don’t even know who you are right now.” He turned and grabbed the sheathed sword and began stomping away.

Link whisked in front of him and spread out his arms. “I’m the phantom of the woods!”

Pushing past him, Rhett wanted to say nothing, but instead found himself throwing words over his shoulder. “Not everyone is magical like you. Some people are just trying to get by. Let them live.” Then he walked deep into the woods, unsure and uncaring if Link was following.

* * *

Rhett sat on a fallen tree, sword leant up against it. He was mad at Link, or at least that impish Link that liked to terrify innocent people. He knew Link really wasn’t like that - or did he? He’d only known him a few weeks, and supposedly Link had been doing this all along. So much so, in fact, that everyone in his town and the one over was genuinely terrified of the woods. He could understand wanting to be alone, but this? It was too much.

He kicked a twig with the toe of his boot. Even Rhett had thought Link a ghost when they first met, surely if he pulled something like that, Rhett would have fled too. And how many people out there were scared of the beautiful forest because of Link? Maybe he wouldn’t be so lonely if he didn’t push everyone away.

Rhett sighed. Now he was just talking about himself. It felt so easy to hate people, to isolate himself from the rest of his village because he was sad for, God knows, no legitimate reason. After spending these weeks with Link, however, he realized the importance of company. Someone to swap stories with, someone to bring bread and cheese. He scrubbed a hand down his face. What had he gotten himself into?

Just then, Link appeared. He stood before Rhett almost ten feet away, quietly, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to approach. Rhett looked at him, his bare feet and thin ankles and black clothes. By the look on his face, Link didn’t know what he’d gotten them into either.

“Come here,” Rhett said, waving him over.

Link walked slowly towards him, then sat beside him on the log. Rhett patted his thigh and spoke.

“Listen, it’s not nice being cruel for no reason. You already know that.”

Link said nothing.

“People in my town… We don’t believe in fantasy. I mean, I do, but they don’t. They believe in ghosts when they have reason to, and they’ve heard stories about Orcs and dragons and fairies, but they _choose_ not to believe them. It’s fantasy to them because it’s too fantastic to believe.” Rhett looked at Link, but Link was looking at the ground. He continued. “Their priorities consist of eat, sleep, survive. They’re not interested in magic, but that’s not a bad thing. That’s just life. It’s different for you because magic is all you know, but some people just want to get by. They want to take their wagon into the woods and not be attacked by a ghost who knows their sins.”

Glancing at him now, Link looked guilty. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Don’t apologize to them. Just understand that not everyone gets a laugh out of what you think is funny, not everyone likes to joke at someone else’s terror.” Rhett realized he sounded much like his father in saying this, but he was proud of it. His father was wise and good. He hoped he could be the same.

Silence went between them now, as Link had nothing to say in defense of himself. A few birds chirped sweetly at them, and the natural wind rustled the trees gently. After a while, Rhett stood.

“Go home,” he said. “Get some rest. I have a plan for us tomorrow.”

Link perked up, turning his eyes on Rhett, just the barest sliver of _Forgive me_ still trapped in the blue. “What is it?”

“I’m taking you into my town. You’re going to see how non-magical people live. You’re going to understand.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett was curious to see Link studying and interacting with the people in his town, as he hoped it’d teach him compassion.

Rhett had surprised himself by inviting Link to his village. Sure, he’d thought about it - well, more than thought - as he figured it’d be a lovely sight to see Link in all his sacred spaces (the library, the fountain, the hillside). He’d had a few dreams of Link flitting in and out of different parts of his life, and considering he’d spent his entire life in his quiet town, it seemed it was due time for Link to visit for real. So, when the sun rose the next morning, Rhett went to his father. Oliver was sipping a dark tea and reading a scroll he’d most likely snatched from the town over. There was a crease in his brow and ink on his thumbs.

“Three bit coins for a satchel of flour!” he exclaimed. “What is the world coming to?”

Rhett sat down next to him, shrugging, for he was truly the last person with an answer to that question. He studied his father’s face, took a deep breath, then said, “Pa. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Oliver perked up. “A girl?”

“No, my friend. From the town over. The one I’ve been spending so much time with.”

“Oh.” He fluffed the scroll, which was more like a crackle. “It’s about time.”

A small tug at the corner of Rhett’s mouth, warmth in his belly. He stood from the table and put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Stay here. I’m going to bring him to you.”

Oliver raised his tea. “Looking forward to it.”

With that blessing, Rhett rushed off to the woods. He wove through the trees he’d come to know, abandoning his morning work in favor of collecting Link. As he walked (well, jogged, he was excited) he imagined how his father would react to Link and how, in turn, Link would react to his father. He was curious to see Link studying and interacting with the people in his town, as he hoped it’d teach him compassion. Although, in order to, he’d have to act like a normal peasant boy, no magic.

Rhett faltered, nearly tripping over a rock. He’d have to give Link some of his clothes, too, as he was sure nobody in his town, including his father, would appreciate skin-tight black trousers and bare feet. Panicking for a moment, Rhett sorted through his old clothes by memory until he’d picked out an outfit he thought might work, then set off again. He pictured Link strolling through his town streets looking fine in his clothes, and that thought alone was most incredible. Link was the only thing that could make his boring hometown feel new again, and Rhett was in high spirits.

He put a big hand on the trunk of a redwood and peered through the clearing at Link’s cottage. Link was waiting for him, sitting cross-legged on the roof. As the morning sun crested over the distant mountains, it cast Link in silver light, and Rhett stopped for a moment to admire him.

It’d nearly been a month since they’d met, and yet Link was still just as breathtaking. With dark hair fluffed in the morning breeze, black clothes doing little to conceal his figure, and a unique, cool stillness Rhett had never seen in anyone else, Link cast a dream atop the mossy slope. He tipped his head back to catch the morning rays on his bare neck, loose collar fluttering open at his chest. Before Rhett could stop himself, he had pictured himself slipping a hand down into Link’s shirt, flat against his skin. Something went tight in Rhett’s stomach and hot in his groin, and he shivered. Shaking his head to clear the thought, he stepped into the grove and called to Link, slightly out of breath.

“Hey, magic boy.”

Link peeked open one eye and glanced down at him, then turned his face back to the sky and tightened his posture. “I’m meditating. Come back later.”

Rhett huffed half a laugh and came close enough to kick the stone cottage with his boot. “We’ve got something to do today, remember?”

Link smiled with his eyes closed, a smile Rhett knew was just for him. “Do we? Completely forgot.”

Wind whisked between them now, nary a hint of any malicious whispers. It was quiet, and once again, Rhett lost himself in looking at Link. Link stretched out his legs and twisted his spine, groaning, and Rhett fixated on the pink, wiggly tips of his toes. More thoughts akin to his dreams drifted through, but Rhett waved them away, unhelpful. Instead, he licked his lips then surged, scrambling clumsy up the side of the cottage and into a seated position beside Link. Link watched him quietly as he did this. When Rhett finally met his eyes, close once again, Link beamed mischievous and draped an arm around Rhett’s shoulders. He pushed his head into the spot under Rhett’s chin like a pet fond of its owner then slipped off the roof before Rhett could blink.

He stood below, hands on his skinny hips, as he said, “What are you doing up there? We’ve got something to do today.”

Rhett grumbled, “You little!-“ before struggling to exit the way he came. When he’d finally gotten back down, Link was running off into the woods. Rhett chased him, heart thumping brazen and confident.

He caught up to Link partway into the woods, or, more accurately, Link caught him. He leapt on him from behind a tree and pinned him down in the dirt with all his weight. He wiggled a bit on top of him, giggling in Rhett’s ear, puffing warm breath on his neck, before Rhett finally shoved him off. Rhett took off running once again, both cursing and blessing the lingering touch. Unfortunately, Link’s body felt as good as it looked.

Once out of breath for real, Rhett leaned on a tree and waited. Link appeared shortly thereafter.

“No more games,” he huffed between gasps. “Gotta be presentable.”

Something had gotten into Link today, it seemed, as he leaned in, eyes sparkling with mirth. “For what?”

Rhett didn’t have the breath to explain, so he just waved Link towards the town. “Come on.”

They walked the rest of the way silently, calming their racing hearts. As they brushed up against each other and shoved playful like brothers, Rhett had the thrilling yet slightly terrifying thought that he might never be the same should ever Link leave him. Rhett bringing Link home with him was the final act of trust, and whether Link knew it or not, Rhett had already committed himself to the boy and knew he wouldn’t be able let go after taking him back. He’d changed too much; he was too important. This was it.

Now, Link didn’t seem to acknowledge any of this, and didn’t seem to acknowledge Rhett’s existence in the same intensity, but Rhett didn’t care. Link was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen, and he wanted anything Link could give him. If this included what Rhett saw and felt in his dreams, he wasn’t yet sure, but deep, deep beneath the platonic heart that had already devoted itself to Link, there was a sliver of something fearful. Of course, Rhett knew how to deal with this, he’d done it all his life. It was a familiar darkness, shadowed in the silhouette of his dying mother, his unlucky father, his lonely village, his empty bones, and, now, the broken heart of the girl next door. It was the way of Rhett’s life - slightly tragic but functional. Indeed, Rhett regarded himself as a melancholy kid with nowhere to go and no prospects of worth, but he knew himself well enough to ignore that fearful sliver and instead follow the silver thread leading him somewhere better… leading him to Link.

You see, Rhett didn’t feel as blue when he was with Link, and let the everglow of Link’s beautiful smile convince him of a fantasy. Being with Link was like something out of a book, truly, with his sorcery, his courage, wisdom, and power. Link was a force Rhett couldn’t contain or match, even with what Link called his “half-baked magic.” Rhett knew Link was a being capable of great things, magic or no, and he hoped he could be there as witness. Yes, there was no one, nowhere, who was anything like Link. Hell, Rhett couldn’t even figure him out most of the time, which made the times he could so fantastic. It was like unraveling bits of a quilt that could kill you or piecing together a puzzle cut from a heavenly blade. Link was something unusual, wild and new, as quick-witted as the woodland wind itself, with an adventure waiting in his sorcerer’s hands. Link was a metaphor Rhett couldn’t even place, or poetry he’d never attempt to write. He was _disgustingly_ wonderful, and you could say, or, well, I might say, that Rhett was totally smitten with him, everlasting and ridiculous. Naturally, this meant he had no goddamn clue what do about it.

Or, more tragically, perhaps Rhett had assigned meaning to instances that didn’t inherently have any, maybe Link was just a playful spirit in a young boy’s body, perhaps there was no loneliness on his end, only humor, Rhett just another village boy for him to torture, Link extending the joke of their time together to gut him and twist him up, leaving the last month or so all in Rhett’s overactive mind. Maybe that, but hopefully not.

No, Rhett believed with every ounce of his intelligent core that Link considered him a good friend, and that he himself meant something to him. Everything that had happened the last month seemed genuine, and honest jokes were all in good fun. In fact, if Link really didn’t care for Rhett, would he be walking close beside him now, willingly following Rhett home to meet his father? Would he spend as much time with Rhett as he did, would he talk to and touch him like he did, would he fall into place in Rhett’s hollow life as perfectly as he did if this was all for nothing? Rhett didn’t think so. If any part of him was absolutely sure of anything, it was this. This and running away. The only two things Rhett truly wanted - Link and to run away. Maybe one day he’d be a lucky bastard and get both at once, eloping with Link off on an adventure that dragged them halfway around the country. Alone together. Happy.

Rhett tripped for real this time. He hit the earth once more, hard, and tasted mud. Link’s laughter bubbled up before it’d even happened, cackling and breathless. It made Rhett want to laugh too, and as he pushed up on his sore elbows, Link knelt down to meet him.

He put his face close and cupped Rhett’s cheek in one hand, thumb sweeping over Rhett’s cheekbone. With thin brows knit with worry, Link’s icy eyes darted ‘round Rhett’s face, and Rhett stared back. He admired every line and shadow on Link’s face, the dark stubble on his chin and jaw, and the shade of his hair in the morning light. The throat under the soft skin of his neck flexed with a quick breath, then his pretty pink lips parted slow and he said, still giggling, “Are you okay?”

Rhett felt no pain.

He stood up slowly, creaking, and towered over Link. His sorcerer looked up at him then scoped the length of his body. He laughed again, pressed close, and put his hands on Rhett’s chest. They fit so perfectly there, pressing lightly, that Rhett forgot to breathe. Link pulled back, smirking, and held up his hands. They were covered in mud.

“I thought you said we had to be presentable?” he asked, flicking his fingers.

Rhett couldn’t speak.

Link smiled again, a twitch on one side of his face, before nodding over his shoulder. “Almost there, right?”

Rhett nodded meekly. He finally took a breath, heavy in his just-touched chest, and snapped out of it. He looked down at himself and groaned. Link padded off in front of him, leading the way.

Trailing behind, Rhett didn’t even try to get the mud out. It was hopeless, and with his eyes on the nape of Link’s neck, stunned into silence, so was he.

* * *

“What happened to you?” Oliver asked. Link stepped out from behind Rhett and shut the door behind him. “And who are you?”

“I tripped, and this is Link.” Rhett was still a bit dazed from falling, but his father’s face straightened him up quick. “I’m taking him into town today. I need to give him some clothes.”

“And some for yourself, I hope.” His father quirked an eyebrow, looked between the two of them, then asked, “You been who my boy’s been spending so much time with?”

Link stepped forward. “Yessir.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. He squinted at them from his place at the table, then chuckled at Rhett’s muddy tunic. “Alright. Don’t get into any trouble out there. And Rhett?”

“Sir.”

“Wash your face.”

Rhett nodded and ushered Link up towards his attic cove. He guided him up with a hand on the small of his back, failing to notice his father eyeing them.

Once in Rhett’s loft, Rhett shuffled around in his trunk looking for old clothes as Link leaned out the window and pointed at the forest. “I live there!” he said. “And you live here.”

“Yes. Put these on.” He threw a deep brown tunic and loose maroon trousers at Link, then kicked over old slippers. He took clothes for him and rose quickly, pushing past Link and out of the room. Naturally, halfway down the attic staircase, Rhett looked back over his shoulder at Link, who had already stripped his black shirt and now rolled his bare, broad shoulders. Rhett escaped, trying not to note the beautiful dip of his spine and waist yet failing terribly.

After he’d washed up at the well outside and tossed his muddy clothes in a wet bucket, he changed and returned cool and stoic once again. Link padded down just as he entered, wearing clothes that had fit Rhett when he was twelve. They were tight on his ridiculously proportioned body, and he’d cuffed the trousers below the knee. He was wearing the slippers. That pesky strip of bare skin at Link’s middle peeked through beneath the tunic, but otherwise, he looked relatively normal. Well, normal for a gorgeous woodland sorcerer kid.

Rhett’s mouth went a little dry at the sight of Link in his clothes, then turned to his father and told him that he was going to give Link a tour of their village. Oliver made an honest comment about how boring the town was, then chuckled. He asked Link a few probing questions, to which Link answered as best he could, then sent them out. He called from the table as Rhett shut the door, “Be good.”

Rhett and Link set off down the village path. It was still early morning, and as they walked past all the little cottages in the valley, Rhett wondered what Link was thinking. He decided to ask him.

Link took his eyes off the fences and yards beyond them and said, “I’m thinking it’s nice here. Quiet.”

“Too quiet.”

“Your father seems… fatherly.”

The mountains were a misty lavender in the soft morning light, hazy beyond the town, hidden by fog. “He’s a good guy.”

“I can see where you get it.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence after that, every now and then Link pointing to something Rhett had seen all his life with fresh, excited eyes. When they passed June’s house, she was out in the yard throwing feed at the chickens. Rhett gave her a gentle smile, and she looked between him and Link then gave one back, albeit slightly disingenuous. Fortunately, Link hadn’t seen, his dark-haired head instead turned towards the fork in the road.

When they made it to the small wooden sign that pointed towards town, Rhett said, “Are you ready?”

Link asked, “Ready for what?” but distant sounds of life and money had already drifted over, a signal that the center of town was awake and bustling.

And, just as Rhett knew it would be, that’s exactly what it was. Dust kicked up by wagon wheels and village people’s boots curled low on the stone square, buildings rising high around them, each of them crammed too tightly against the one adjacent. The noise was now loud and present, a mix of shouts and rusty machinery which, in all honesty, Rhett had never found the source of. The merchants who rose with the sun set up their booths, and beggars who never rose at all jingled their tins from dark corners. A high shutter slammed open as a busty woman in a bonnet poked through to shake out her blanket, and the blacksmith down below was already hammering an iron tool. A young working boy whom Rhett had definitely fawned over swept the steps of the cobbler’s shop. Beside him, someone was unloading silver cutlery from a cart, silverware and candlesticks. The baker put out fresh bread as weary-eyed mothers carried laundry through the square, little tots with their little dogs weaving between people. Something loud banged to their left, and the two of them startled as a heavy trunk fell from a window. Angry shouts followed.

Rhett pulled Link up into a stoop by the elbow as another cart roared by, then pushed him back down on the street as someone opened the door behind him and shoved past. His town wasn’t usually this aggressive, he thought. He didn’t know what had gotten into it today. Searching for something calming, he put his hand on Link’s shoulder and lead him towards the flower girl parked outside the library. She offered them two midnight blue pansies, and Rhett dropped a bit coin into her hand with a smile. He watched, lovestruck, as Link tucked the flower behind his ear and batted his eyelashes. Even in Rhett’s old clothes, awash in brown amongst everyone else, Link shone. Bright, blue eyes and a playful pink mouth, he complimented the flower girl on her collection and received an extra daisy in thanks. Link put it in his buttonhole.

Rhett rolled the stem of his flower between his thumb and forefinger as he watched Link look around, town noise going inaudible, Link’s fascination blurring it out. Link looked from one shop sign to the next, admiring the English architecture. He studied all the people hurrying past, disappearing into doorways and ducking behind booths. Rhett noted the way he tipped his strong jaw upwards to sniff at the air, no doubt smelling a myriad of scents - flowers, dust, meat, oil, sweat. He smiled bright, then left Rhett at the cart, wandering off to inspect an artist painting a lounging woman. He hovered over his shoulder for a minute, then disappeared inside the dressmaker’s. Rhett straightened up and kept his eye on the door, waiting patiently for Link to return. A few minutes later, the skinny boy exited the shop and was about to go into another when Rhett crossed the square and stopped him.

“Hey,” he said, catching him by the arm. “Wanna show you something.” Link blinked at him happily, then followed as Rhett lead them back towards the library and entered his most sacred space.

The scent of worn pages and ancient spines washed over them, library a still, musty contrast to the busy life outside. Rhett let Link go ahead of him, big eyes scoping the high shelves of books, thin fingers trailing along the wood bannisters. Link reached up to touch all the blue spines, then red, turning back to Rhett and smiling like a kid in a sweetshop. Willie appeared then, rounding a corner and making a small, old-man-type sound at the sight of his favorite customer.

“Rhett! Good to see you, my boy. Oh! Who is this?” The bespectacled librarian looked past Rhett at Link, who was leaning on tip-toes to reach for a large gold book. The intense curiosity in Link’s face as he explored had Rhett feeling some type of way. It felt good. He smiled at Willie.

“This is Link. He’s visiting.”

Willie chuckled as Link brought the big book down to his face and blew dust from the cover. “Seems he’s got the same knack for books as you.”

“He likes fantasy, like me.” Rhett puffed out his chest and crossed his arms, proud.

“Ah, I see. Well, I’ve got some I think he might like. Care to show him?” All the wrinkles in Willie’s face squished together as he looked at Rhett, then back at Link. Rhett wondered why Willie had never asked him to be his apprentice, or at least work in the shop, as he knew it better than anyone. Then again, Willie had never taken up an apprentice and seemed to want to keep the library as quiet and simple as possible.

Rhett walked down the aisle towards Link, who was just then rounding the corner and disappearing into the second row, gold book forgotten on a reading desk. Willie trailed behind, giving them space. Rhett came to stand behind Link and reached up over his shoulder. Link leaned back into him, and Rhett felt himself blush. Link didn’t move as Rhett danced his fingers over the spines, bumping along until he settled on one he knew Link would like. It was about a normal kid seeking his adventurous fate, sailing to the tropics and meeting bushy-beared pirates. He figured Link wouldn’t want to read about magicians, though there were plenty of books in the section. Rhett showed Link the pirate book instead, bringing it in front of his chest, arm draped over Link’s shoulder. Link took it and traced the skull and crossbones on the cover. He twisted his neck to look up at Rhett, cheeks pulled tight in a smile. Rhett felt himself gazing fondly, eyelids droopy as Link turned back. Rhett admired his ear, neck, and jaw, as well as the press of Link’s back against his chest. He put his face close to Link, healing in his warmth. His hair smelled like the forest, but his clothes smelled like Rhett’s cottage. It was a lovely combination.

Willie perked up from behind them, seemingly breaking a moment. “Pirates. A good choice.”

Rhett took his arms back and let Link hold the book. He shuffled away, suddenly guilty, and pretended to spot a book he’d never read.

“How do you feel about fairies?” asked Willie, taking up the spot next to Link and looking very small and withered beside the young thing.

“Meaner than you’d think they’d be,” Link responded. “I like dragons.”

“Ah, then I know a book perfect for you.” He wandered away, leaving the two of them alone for another moment.

Rhett wanted to ask Link what he thought, how many books he wanted to get, if any, and if, later, he’d want to read them on the hillside. He didn’t have time to, though, as Willie appeared from the corner with two books, one deep forest green, the other as brown as bark. He held up the latter, “This one has dragons in it,” then the other, “and this one is about dragons.”

Link reached for the green one. “What happens?”

Rhett peered at the cover then summarized from memory. “A boy finds what he thinks to be a stone and ends up raising a baby dragon. He takes it back to the island it came from. Dragons everywhere.”

“And this one?”

“You don’t want to read it yourself?” Rhett teased.

“I want you to tell me. Then I’ll pick one.”

“Okay, well, that one’s just the classic love story. There’s mention of dragons, but they’re usually slain in favor of the princess.”

Link looked at both of them. “Hm.” He handed Willie the books, then wandered off again. “What’s over here?”

He rounded the shelf and disappeared, and Willie leaned in to whisper. “Curious, isn’t he?”

“More than you know.”

Willie chuckled, wheezy. He clapped a hand on Rhett’s shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you found a friend. You deserve it.”

This was more honest, more kind, than Rhett had anticipated, so he just shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. He scratched his beard, smiled, said, “Thanks, I think so too,” then went to find Link.

He wasn’t in the next row over, but the one after that. He had opened the big book on the desk in the corner and was now squatting to look at a small, slender book in a deep purple binding. “I want this one,” he said.

“Okay,” replied Rhett. Link hopped up and made his way back to the front, Rhett following. Willie went behind the desk as if it were an actual shop and not purely a Rhett McLaughlin support system, and Link handed the two books over.

Willie looked at the one in purple, laughed, and handed it back. “Interesting.” He glanced at Rhett, “I’ll take a coin for these two, don’t worry about bringing them back anytime soon.”

Rhett nodded and gave him a copper piece. Link was already halfway out the door, ruffling through the pirate book, when Rhett said thank you and goodbye. He caught up to Link in the doorway and, unsurprisingly, let his hand fall to its favorite spot at the small of Link’s back.

Outside, the town hadn’t ceased. Now, the sun had risen golden with the heat and people kicked up more dust than ever as they zoomed about the square. Rhett and Link weaved as best they could, Link himself taking the place as the funny boy with his nose in a book. After a moment, he looked up at the shop selling kitchen wares, spotting a big black cauldron in the window. He closed the book with a snap and hustled along. Rhett followed, quietly smitten.

Link pushed through the shop door and went straight for the cauldron. “How much is this?”

Rhett swept up beside him, whispering, “You have money?” If this was true, Rhett felt he wouldn’t have spent so much on food and gifts. Of course, we all know he would have anyway.

“No,” Link said. “Just wondering.”

“About fifty pounds,” the thick woman behind the counter grumbled. She was polishing a frying pan with a dirty rag, the only other customers a tall man in a dark cloak inspecting chalices in the back and a very pretty woman admiring expensive china beside them.

Link put his pale hands on the dark iron and closed his eyes. Link told him once that everything had essence, including material possessions. He wondered if that was what Link was doing now, checking its history through indiscernible magic. Link took his hands off and looked around again, walking over to a crystal bowl and pestle. Rhett glanced down at the cauldron. The daisy from Link’s buttonhole had fallen in, white and innocent at the bottom of the pot. He picked it out and put it in his own.

The pretty woman went to stand next to Link. Rhett watched her carefully as she tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

She was referring to the crystal bowl, but something soft inside Rhett responded, _Yes, he is._

“Used for grinding cooking ingredients. I only wish I could have one half as charming.” She looked at the other bowls and touched their curved, wooden edges, smiling softly. She glanced at Link, and seemed like she was about to ask him something, but Link cut her off.

“Not just cooking,” he muttered.

“What’s that?”

“Potions. Good for potions, too.”

The woman stared at Link as if he’d spoken another language, which he may as well have. Rhett then swooped in, leading Link away and out of the shop. He thanked the grumpy old woman at the counter, but she just grunted.

Rhett ruffled Link’s hair fondly as they stepped back out into the square. The whores in front of the pub giggled at them, wiggling their fingers flirtatiously, but Rhett didn’t want any more feminine attention directed Link’s way. If that was terrible, he didn’t care. Link was here with _him._

They continued down the street until they reached a gathering of people. Rich husbands and their doe-eyed wives craned to see a man dressed in colorful attire standing atop a crate and pulling equally colorful ribbons through the air. Pastel smoke swirled against the stone square around the village peoples’ feet from hidden spots in the wall behind him. Rhett and Link squeezed between two rough-looking men. Both of them smelled unpleasant. They squeezed further towards the front, Rhett standing off to the side because of his height. Link made Rhett hold his library books and stood close beside him.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” the colorful man shouted. “I tell a tale of a world beyond, filled with magic unknown to even the wisest of us.” He spread his hands out against the air, the village people’s dirty faces turned up at him in wonder. The rest of the town continued on, oblivious. Rhett looked at the man, at his strange garb and actor’s cap. He wore a gold tunic and trousers, scrappy and patched with colors and symbols in no obvious pattern. Little shimmering triangles hung behind him on loose thread, and a stained scroll had been pasted to the stone. The man had drawn his own face surrounded by twinkling stars, and underneath, misspelled, was his name followed by “magik show.” Rhett scoffed and nudged Link’s arm, but Link shushed him and continued to listen intently.

“Creatures of all sorts roam there, creatures we cannot imagine. Fairies with pink wings and huge, golden oxen with blood-red jewel eyes. Slithering, enchanted snakes and the fairest, rarest unicorns.” He mimed all of this as he spoke, his voice cool and rumbling, almost enchanting. Rhett had to give him points for this. He deducted points for his sorry attempt at facial hair, however.

The man continued, pulling out a sheer ribbon from his patchwork sleeve. “Here, there is no pain, only pleasure.” Wiggling his greasy eyebrows, he looked for the men in the audience then said, “Beautiful women bathe in open pools, virginal, pure, but hark! Do not get too close, for she may be a witch, luring you in if only to trap you forever.”

A fat-bellied man slapped his friend on the back. “Wouldn’t mind a bit, amirite, boys?!” Manly laughter followed.

“And the sorcery, oh! Magical potions and spells…” He popped his hands, “Ah!” and confetti fell from his palms. He took up the ribbon again, sweeping it through the air as if intimidating, what Rhett assumed to be, casting spells. “Old wizards ask a hearty price for healing magic, potions that give vitality and spells to haunt your neighbors… He’ll mix them up in his big stew, unicorn hair here, a sprinkle of fairy dust there, or use his gnarly old wand to give you anything you like.”

“Gnarly old wand! Can he excite my wife with that?” the fat-bellied man shouted again, earning him another hoot of laughter.

“Do not speak ill of the magic!” boomed the entertainer, twirling his ribbons. “Powers so great, so mysterious! Do not let a curse befall you simply from your own foolishness. One must believe with only the purest heart, else the magic goes dark, an unforgiving pain!”

“Give it up, Ryland,” the heckler shouted. “Magic’s a myth.”

Aforementioned Ryland leaned over the crowd, peering right at the man in question. “Ah, but do you know this for certain?”

“Yes, I do.” He pushed through his friends to get closer, belly bumping people aside. Still, the magic man did not drop his character.

“You aim to tell me, good sir, that you know of all the world’s secrets, all its unexplained instances and mysteries? You know for certain there is no room for magic?”

He crossed his thick arms as best he could over his oily tunic. “I ain’t sayin’ I know everything, I’m sayin’ magic is bull.”

“Why do you think this?”

“Makes people lazy! You think I can just wave my hands like this,” a poor mimicry, “and my wife will suddenly drop a stone? Turn back twenty years, slim and pretty? It’s nonsense!”

Ryland straightened up on his crate and put his hands on his hips. He had the same strip of bare skin between his tunic and trousers that Link did, and Rhett wondered if it was a sorcerer thing, though he doubted this man was legitimate. “What you do with your wife is none of my business, good sir.” Laughter from the audience, and Ryland went smug. “But I do know that magic makes a man humble. With all the world’s power in his hands, he starts to appreciate life’s simple truths.”

“Makes a man…? Lies! Real men fix their own problems.” He thumped a hand on his chest proudly, but Rhett had a feeling he’d never done a day’s work in his life.

“How would you go about fixing a sick cow, then? Or a broken vase? Or your daughter’s crooked teeth?”

“Hey!” the man surged forward, personally attacked. Ryland leapt from the crate and onto another. “You take that back!”

“Sorcery is not the devil’s work,” Ryland sneered, big nose turned up. “Gluttony is. And it seems you’ve got plenty of that.”

This tipped the man over the edge. He tried to grab at him, but Ryland sprinted away like an elf, quick on his feet. He cackled. “Rage! Another sin! You’re making this too easy!”

“Magic! Ain’t! Real!” The man from the crowd clambered to get him, but a few burly guys in front held him back. While the tiff was quite a show, the town didn’t need another guy with a broken nose.

Now, apparently, was the moment Link chose to make his appearance. He hopped on Ryland’s crate and looked out over the crowd. Rhett held his breath.

“Magic is real!” he said. “But it’s not like you say. It’s only helpful, it doesn’t solve problems.”

“Eh? Who’s this twink?” The angry man stopped fighting and instead looked at Link, confused. As Rhett had told Link, in this town, everybody knew everybody. This meant nobody knew Link. Murmurs bubbled through the group, _Who is that? Does he live here? What’s wrong with his hair?_

Rhett’s stomach tightened, immediately seeking Link’s protection, pushing through the crowd to get to him before he said anything else. Link held out his arms and pleaded, “None of you know anything! It’s not what you think!” but Rhett was already there, tugging him down and shielding him with his long body. The man continued to yell about his fat, ugly wife as Rhett and Link disappeared into the shadows and Ryland took back his crate. Rhett didn’t look back, but Link did.

“They’re all so stupid,” Link whispered as they made their way down the back alley and towards Rhett’s hidden hillside. “They have no idea.”

“Did you expect them to? I told you they choose not to believe it.”

“But that guy did.”

“He’s an entertainer. Who knows if he actually believes or not. Now come on, I’ve a perfect place to rest at.”

* * *

Rhett lead Link up the grassy hillside and plopped down under his favorite tree. A few flowers sprinkled the hill, and the cliff cut down into the valley, dusty lavender mountains peaking far in the distance. The grass was as soft as it’d ever been, and Link quickly sought to lay in it, tunic riding up as he put his arms behind his head. Rhett looked at his bare belly and slapped it. Link laughed, and with it, restored the playful balance.

They sat in silence for a moment, both catching their breath and reflecting on the busy town scene, until Link rolled over onto his belly and pushed up on his elbows. His long back made a beautiful arch, and Rhett noted his round rump before turning his eyes on the horizon. Link spoke.

“It’s not so bad,” he said.

“You haven’t lived here long enough to say that.”

“No, I know. But it’s really not so bad. I like it a lot.”

Rhett plucked a blade of grass mindlessly. Link looked far too pretty in the sunshine to meet his eyes. “Why?”

“I don’t know, it’s busy. And colorful. I’ve never seen so many people in such a small space.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

Link sat up. “It is if you’ve lived alone… Rhett. Look at me.” Rhett obeyed. Link’s eyes had gone serious and he pulled his knees into his chest. “I know you want to run, but look at this way: You live in a place where everyone knows each other yet new people are coming through every day. They bring goods from other places and, I’m sure if you asked them, stories, too. There’s a pub full of travelers and streets lined with specialists. You’re not so trapped as you think you are. You just don’t want to give them the benefit of the doubt.”

Rhett scoffed, “Oh, _I_ don’t? Who was it yesterday that said these people ought to be scared?”

Link grimaced and looked at the grass. He plucked a few pieces of his own and crumpled them in his fist. “I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t know.”

Rhett paused. Link wasn’t cruel at heart, Rhett knew that. He did wonder, though, if Link felt out of place here in town. He’d said he’d lived in town before, but that was when he was what, fifteen? He’d been living in the woods, lonely, with only ghosts and trees for friends. He was a nature boy, through and through, and now he was here, in Rhett’s every-busy town. He’d also admitted to feeling a certain joy when playing people, as mischief usually quirks a sorcerer’s tricky interest, and yet now he apologized for it.

Rhett took a big breath. His heart hurt. Link was such a sweet boy, so genuinely good and willing to learn. Whatever he’d been through these last six years, he came out of it as curious and wild as ever. He sat on the cliff now, eyes on the mountains, and Rhett wondered what this boy was hiding. He might have been a mystery, but he was unafraid to open his heart, and, in all honesty, Rhett struggled to do the same. In fact, Rhett considered it to be the bravest thing someone could do, really, save for heroism.

“It’s okay,” Rhett offered. “Human nature is definitely… interesting. And my town is no exception. I hope, at least, these simpletons amused you.”

Laughter, bright and cheeky. It made Rhett feel warm, and then he was smiling, too. Link fluffed his hair, obliviously handsome. “They’re funny. I’m still confused about where they stand on sorcery, though.”

Sighing, Rhett replied, “Don’t worry, so am I,” before twisting his booted feet to pop his knees. He made a small groan, and Link quirked a brow at him. He looked away and continued, “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here.”

Link shuffled closer and nudged him with his bare foot, as he’d clearly taken off Rhett’s slippers the moment they touched grass. Then he lay beside him quietly and said nothing. They spent the next moment or two beneath Rhett’s favorite tree on the hillside, lazily watching the clouds. Rhett tried not to think about anything, not what it felt like to be here with Link or the calming rhythm of his breath so close, nor the peaceful breeze and meadow silence, leaving them alone and content as usual.

Link may or may not have said something about the shape of the clouds; Rhett couldn’t remember.

He woke up, a bit overheated and sweaty, still half asleep, with Link saying, “I’m hungry. Let’s go get lunch.”

Rhett thought this was a very good idea. It was a bit later in the day and the sun was rising high, cresting noon. He sat up and wiped his face, giving Link a fond look, as they were both flushed with sleepy exertion. Link bit his lip and jumped up. Rhett looked at the sky for good measure, the mountains and the valley and the distant unknown, and stood. He followed Link down the hill (going back for Link’s books, of course) and heading off into his village once again.

* * *

They spent the rest of the day flitting all over town - the shops, the hillside, the fountain. Rhett avoided Harv the butcher, and instead took Link around the food carts in the square, collecting the best bits of everything, mostly bread and cheese and meat chunks on sticks. Munching as they went, Rhett brought them to the fountain at the center of town, parking on the stone edge and watching, standstill, as everyone else went by. It had become so natural now, eating meals with Link, that they usually just sat in comfortable silence, chewing and grunting like hungry young men often do. When they finished, Rhett gave Link his books and told him he had to take at least half an hour to read one of them, silent and focused. Link took a few moments to tease back, but eventually settled in beside Rhett as he read.

Rhett was too alight to read, so he just sat calmly and watched Link. Link didn’t seem to mind. He got up after a while and wandered about, nearly seeing his town in a new light but deciding it was most likely just Link’s luminous glow at the heart of it. And by the grace of all the kings and all the gods, did he glow.

Of all the people buzzing about the square, or those loitering in dark corners or peddling for coins, Link was steady at the fountain, and he was magnificently beautiful. Blue pansy in his dark hair, broad shoulders stretching tight. Even hunched over in Rhett’s old clothes, he looked different - more curiosity and youth and perhaps the uncanny ability to make any place feel safe. Sitting there at the fountain, he looked at home, more than Rhett thought he himself felt in the throw of it. However, it was important to note that Link didn’t feel like anybody else. Being around him was magnetic, easy. Nobody else had a radiating energy about them, one that sweeps up like a cool breeze and lifts and lightens, slightly magical and altogether ridiculously mysterious. At least, that’s how he felt to Rhett. Something new and wonderful that could so easily, so perfectly, fit right into place at home.

Rhett sighed and looked at him. A woman with a white cotton bonnet and brown skirt hurried past, her hem brushing Rhett’s boots. Another man lugged a crate of lumber awkwardly through an alley, and a little boy chased a dog that, quite honestly, looked like a mop, as he weaved between legs. And yet, with so many things to look at, Rhett found himself grounded by Link. Transfixed, yes, but tethered, as well. Bound to watch that boy, protect him, and in turn let him replace the heart of Rhett’s history, perhaps a different kind of home. Rhett pressed his lips together, and Link looked up.

Rhett and Link held the look across the street. Though everything was still moving quick, time paused, only traces of sound between them as they stood the only two souls in all of England. One heartbeat. Butterflies. Rhett blinked and Link was cocking his head for him to come over. He swallowed thick and crossed the square to join him.

After that, they regrouped and continued to explore the shops. Every now and then, they’d duck into an alleyway for Link to do a small spell, as he wanted to practice being discreet. He had done well despite the obvious magical illumination, green and purple on stone, until the little mop-dog wandered into the alley and sniffed him out. The boy who chased him peeked in, asked Link to join his gang, then disappeared when he gently declined. Rhett burst a seam laughing after that, and Link joined him.

They dipped back into the library for Link to spend some more time in the bookstacks, the two of them sitting together up against a shelf, reading quietly. Eventually, they bid Willie farewell for a second time and continued into trinket shops, dropping a few coins on some gems and statues for Link’s collection. There was one old shop deep and low in a corner that Rhett stayed far from, but upon turning into the alley in which it resided, Link immediately pointed it out as a witch’s hut. He didn’t get a very welcoming vibe, however, and told Rhett if she’d been willing to share her potions and teach him, she wouldn’t have put up a barrier. Rhett realized that must have been why he never felt any desire to cross that alley, as it was always chilly. Link also said it might not be inhabited, else there would have been smoke rising from the chimney or at least some sense of presence. Rhett joked that he could move in that house to get out of the woods, but Link just gave him an indistinguishable look and continued on.

They returned to the grassy hill every now and then, catching a much needed break from the scene before plunging back in. Many hours passed this way, and after too many rounds of food and gifts, Rhett and Link worked their way back towards the valley road. However, while Ryland and his magik smoke were gone, an equally interesting character eyed them as they neared the edge of town. He wore a strange green suit too tight for his fat, bean-bellied body and a large, white-faced clock around his neck. With black, beady eyes he watched them, and Rhett was thoroughly spooked by the time he pushed Link behind the last building.

Once back on the dirt road, they took their time to walk, both exhausted from the day’s tour and hoping to prolong the sunset. Link needed at least a little bit of evening light to head back through the woods, but Rhett wanted to keep Link with him, if only to lay around in his field with his sheep to watch the sky turn pink. It was orange now, sun hanging low enough to cast the cottages in gold, and Rhett swayed lazily beside Link as they moseyed back home. Rhett mumbled something about it being a good day, overall, and Link agreed. They didn’t need to say anything else about it, as their sleepy eyes, warm, full bellies, and a basket of goodies was proof enough.

When they got back to Rhett’s place, Link said hello to Oliver then immediately disappeared to change. Rhett splashed some water on his face, and his father cleared his throat. He was in the same spot Rhett had left him in, but now there was a smattering of dirty dishes and a tired, day-worn look in his eyes. Still, he was perky enough as he asked, “How was your day?”

“Good. I showed him everything in town. We’re really tired.”

Oliver made a sound like _Hmph,_ which meant _“Clearly, I’m not going to get much more out of my son than this,”_ and said, “Well, I’m glad to see you. It’s good to know where you run off to during the day.”

“Ah…” Rhett rubbed the back of his neck. He heard Link shuffling around upstairs and tried not to imagine what he looked like when slipping his stretchy black trousers back on. He failed, naturally. Rhett went back to the sink and began wiping up water. He wanted to tell his father how amazing the day had been, how beautiful Link looked in the midst of the busy town, how he calmed the moment Rhett gave him a good book. He wanted to gush about the nap in the grass and Link’s brave heart, his new place in Rhett’s life and the importance of their friendship, but instead, he opted for something simple yet true, such as, “Link’s a good friend.”

His friend appeared then, as if summoned, back to himself in his black sorcerer’s clothes. He said, “Put your clothes in the trunk,” then looked between Rhett and his father. With light feet, he hopped down the last few attic steps and stood proudly before Oliver McLaughlin.

“Your town is lively and interesting,” he said, “and I enjoyed visiting very much. Thank you for welcoming me into your home, and for letting me spend time with your son. He is also a good friend to me. I like him a lot.” Then he took his basket of trinkets and food, nodded curtly, and let himself out. Rhett stared agape as he trotted outside. He looked to his father.

He was smirking knowingly, then set his jaw back into a composed, fatherly manner and eyed Rhett. It was quiet, then, “You know you can spend the night with him, right?”

“What?!” Rhett exclaimed, gut twisting as his face went hot.

Oliver was cool. “You can seep there. At Link’s.”

Rhett continued to blush madly, suddenly dumbstruck. “Oh. Okay.”

His father stood up and took his greasy plate with him. “As long as you let the animals in and come back by morning for work…”

Clueless. Utterly clueless. “Okay.”

It was quiet, and Rhett felt very uncomfortable. His father put his plate in the sink, seemingly at ease. He cracked a sly grin, then put a hand on the cottage door. He nodded at Rhett, then said, “Go have an adventure, son.”

* * *

Rhett closed the front door behind him, unsure as to what had just happened. All the same, he was thoroughly embarrassed. Link was waiting for him in the dim shadows, basket on his hip. “Hey.”

Approaching him, Rhett’s cheeks burned dark pink. He licked his lips. “I think my father thinks we’re…” he trailed off. Link cocked his head curiously. “He said I could spend the night.”

Link looked back at him, tinted blue in the low evening light. There was something in his eyes Rhett hadn’t yet seen. He held Rhett’s gaze, unafraid. “Do you want to?”

He took a moment to admire Link, as he was always admiring Link, then spoke. This time, he knew what to say. “Yes.”

And so it was. They retreated back into the woods the way they came, trying to beat the last of the early moonlight before the night fell. It was dark in the woods all the same, and Link had to lead them by the light of him palms, focusing hard and silent to keep them glowing white. Rhett spoke to keep him calm, spinning off into hypotheses and fantasies, many of which were inspired by the boy himself.

They arrived at the cottage breathless and warm. Rhett collapsed on the bed inside as Link recharged with some crystals then bounced about collecting twigs and a blanket. Without another word, he convinced Rhett to follow him deep into the woods, the journey perking both of them up as the moon drew closer to the stars.

He may have not known it here and now, as he was a bit dazed in general, but Rhett would remember this moment in particular long after. Link leading him, a shadow himself amongst the long, dark forest trees, moonlight patterned in stripes, and all silent save for the rattle of the bundle of sticks in his arms as he walked was a steady, guiding image, and Rhett kept his eyes on a spot between Link’s shoulder blades, trusting him, as he followed curiously to see what came next. With Link, it was always unknown, and now with the new rule of ‘spending the night,’ as his father had so graciously put it, Rhett truly did not know what to expect.

However, it seemed Link had known just what they needed. He lead Rhett to a clearing beside a large, sloped rock. It shot up at an angle then went flat, and Rhett already knew it’d have an excellent view of the stars. He was fond of both Link and astronomy and watched peacefully as Link dumped the twigs into a pile. Link dusted off his hands, and, without giving Rhett another look, magically arranged them into a fire pit. Stones unearthed themselves and rolled to form a ring around the pit, and everything settled. Link scowled, twitched a finger, and a few logs fell more solidly into place. Link circled the spot, studying it, then snapped the fingers of his left hand. A bright orange flame burst between thumb and forefinger.

Rhett wandered over now, asking, “What, real fire too primitive for you?”

“Did you bring a flint, then?” The fire glowed orange against his face as he grinned. His deep eyes sparkled like a sorcerer’s.

Rhett huffed. “Hurry up, it’s cold.”

Link didn’t need to be told twice. He flicked his hand toward the pit as if shaking a spider from his knuckles, and the twigs burst into flame. The whole area glowed warm in the firelight, and Rhett was immediately drawn to the hearth. He sat down near it, and Link followed, nudging close. Rhett took another breath and tipped his head back. He rolled his neck to release all the tension in the tendons and leaned comfortably. Link shifted beside him, settling in, then they both turned their eyes on the sky.

The night sky held them in place for a moment, grounding them to the earth yet gently luring them towards the heavens with its dark, feral beauty.

“Today was a day,” Rhett whispered.

“Definitely a day.”

“But we’re here now, aren’t we?” Rhett looked at Link, his face going soft in the firelight.

Link gave a small smile. “Yeah. We’re here now.” He looked from the fire, to Rhett, then back to the sky. He took a breath so deep Rhett saw the rise and fall of his chest.

They sat in silence for a moment, simply allowing the cool night paired with the fire’s warmth to reset their bones. Link kept his face impassive, looking into the fire, somewhat glazed. For all Rhett knew, he could have been practicing hexes in his head. He didn’t think Link would want to do magic later tonight, but he could never be sure with Link. All the same, Rhett studied his face until Link caught him. He smirked and rolled his eyes to the moon. It felt good to tease him, always, but something in the subtext of the moment made Rhett want to ask about Link’s parents.

“Link… Were you all alone when you first moved here?”

Link tightened his arms around his legs and put his chin on his knees. “No.” He didn’t elaborate, but Rhett stared him down him until he did. “My mother brought me. She said it would be temporary.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

It went tense again, and Rhett crinkled his brow. He didn’t want to force Link, but knowing him, Rhett assumed he’d have to pry at least a bit. “Did she have to leave?”

“No, I don’t know. She just left. She never came back.” Link was irritated, but after a long day, Rhett didn’t blame him. He decided to risk it anyway.

“Do you think she died?”

“Rhett!” Link flipped his head to glare at him, and Rhett saw his eyes were watery. He had to fix it, fix it now.

“Link, I’m sorry, I just…” He squeezed the back of his neck. “I want to know more about you. I don’t know how to ask.”

Link went silent and turned back to the fire. He said nothing for a long while, but there were a few moments when he either furrowed his brow or opened his mouth, about to speak. Rhett said nothing but Link’s name, pleading, until Link stood up and walked towards the large boulder.

He scrambled up the side, nimble as always, and Rhett followed. At the top, Rhett found Link sitting with his legs pulled in. He went to sit beside him on the smooth stone, flat gray rock still warm from the day’s sun. Link had his eyes on the waxing moon, full enough to cast the rock plateau in soft blue moonlight.

“You don’t have to tell me…” Rhett began. “But, in case it makes a difference, I lost my mother, too.”

Link didn’t seem angry, just hesitant, fragile. His breath caught as Rhett told him this. “You did?”

“Plague. I was eight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“The worst thing is, I didn’t even know what was happening. She was sick, then she was gone. It took me years to really miss her.” The view from the rock was woods for acres and the barest hint of light from the town over. Rhett traced the ridge of the shadow trees with his eyes as he spoke and kept his voice low and gravelly. “My father tells me I’m like her, and I feel bad because I can’t remember enough of who I was before she died, nor can I remember enough of her.”

And Link, who had been sitting quiet as Rhett spoke, waited then said, “I remember. I remember the day she left. I just can’t remember how I’m supposed to go about it.”

Rhett put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know.”

“She didn’t come back, so I stayed.” Link’s voice was so soft now, it was almost a whisper. Husky and slightly heartbroken. “I stayed.”

A few nighttime insects clicked at them from crevices in the rock. The stars had come out for real now, and paired with the moon, Rhett couldn’t take his eyes off them. He watched them twinkle before glancing down at Link to whisper, “You know she might still be out there, Link. Waiting for you to find her.”

Rhett watched as Link’s jaw clenched then released, and he said, “Ever think we might have been destined to meet each other?”

A flutter in his stomach, hope in his heart. “Who, me and you?”

“Yes, Rhett. Me and you.”

He slicked a hand through his hair. “Sometimes. Do you?”

“Well, I don’t think it was chance. You showed up right when I needed you.”

Rhett poked him in the side. “You need me?”

Link swatted him away, but he was smiling now, and Rhett could breathe easy. Link sighed and spoke to the moon. “Where would I be without you, Rhett?”

“Probably right here, in the woods.”

His friend hummed, “Mmm, but I’d be lonely.”

Loneliness. Rhett was quite familiar. “That’d make two of us.”

“Glad we’ve got each other, then.”

Rhett wanted to ask, _For how long?_ but something was nervous in his chest, and he refrained. In the silence, Link leaned back and spread himself out on the flat rock, tucking his hands behind his head. Rhett looked down at him, thinking his chest looked particularly masculine in this moment, and swiveled to lay down in the opposite direction. The boulder was wide enough that they could lay longways, heads staying close. The sky was endless above them.

It was quiet for a few minutes. Rhett felt content being here with Link in the woods, finally chipping back some of his harder edges. They’d confirmed their commitment to each other, Rhett was glad, but now all that was left was for them to run away. There were so many more things to see, and Rhett wanted to see them all with Link.

“We should go somewhere,” Link said then, his voice vibrating through the rock and into Rhett’s bones. He matched the frequency.

“Adventure? Where to?”

“Paris?”

Rhett smiled. “My father’s been. Venice, too.”

“Maybe we could try the tropics? Hear there's dark magic down there.”

“I’d be happy with a road trip, get a cart and some horses and cross the countryside.”

Link laughed. “Yeah. Someday.”

Then for a timeless moment, they lay there, two boys with hopeful dreams and painful histories, lining up under the stars, just where they were meant to be, in a fantasy not soon forgotten.

Link breathed again, a big husk in his chest, and showed Rhett his hand. “Promise me we’ll do something together one day, okay? Find somewhere great.”

Rhett took his hand and held their clasped fists high above their heads. Against the starry sky, he wished with all his heart. “I promise,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am 100% Rhett's dad dfgjhdfkjghdkjfhsd he KNOWS


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a twitch of his head, Link beckoned Rhett into the most magical grounds he’d seen yet.

In the days following their trip to Rhett’s village, Link practiced magic more than ever before. He retreated into his sorcery, filling his cottage with lightning spells and potion fumes, taking the clearing out in the woods for bigger enchantments, brow furrowed, sweat dripping down his neck. Rhett didn’t dare disturb him, of course, and kept a safe distance between them, every now and then shouting helpless encouragements. Link appreciated his support, but disregarded him as he swept his arms through the air and threw sparks at the ground. He’d cast for hours on end, oftentimes skipping meals or demanding Rhett go home so he could get it right. Rhett always obeyed, whatever he needed, but early the first day, the stupider half of him tried to sneak up on Link and tease him, which was met with a howling anger and flash of orange light. Rhett left him alone after that.

Indeed, Link had been acting strange ever since their talk beneath the stars. It was a subtle change, a certain focused silence that impish Link usually went without. He kept his spirits high as he always did, and one who didn’t know Link like Rhett knew Link wouldn’t have been able to spot it. He went along with Rhett’s decisions in a quiet, thoughtful compliance when he’d usually put up a fight. His wise eyes drifted off Rhett’s face in moments Rhett wanted to keep them there, as if worry clouded behind them like gray storms over sea. And Link, who needed to cast magic to keep himself sharp, now receded into it like there was nothing else worth his time.

Unfortunately, Rhett believed there were many things left to discover, particularly in regards to the relationship between them. He and Link had set their friendship in stone, forever under the stars, and Rhett wanted to keep pushing for more breakthroughs. He wanted to take that eternal confirmation and run with it, parade Link all over the country to honor the oath they’d sworn they would. He wanted to hold Link safe and still in his arms, just for a moment, but Link was restless. As the days wore on, he grew irritable, bouncing all over the woods and cottage as if trapped in unwarranted nervous energy. That’s where he was now, pacing along the same grooves in the earth he’d walked all day, mumbling chants to himself as his dry, chapped palms sparked with tired sorcery.

Link grumbled and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Get it right,” he muttered. “Just get it right this time.” He shook out his hands, popped his neck, and rolled his shoulders. Rhett watched quietly from a hollow log as Link raised his palms and focused on the sapling before him. He’d been trying to turn it from a sapling to a silver tree, and from a silver tree into a marble statue. It was a multiple step transfiguration, that’s what Link told Rhett, but as Rhett watched, it seemed Link was struggling to complete it. Rhett knew he had the spell memorized, as he furrowed his brows and recited in his head, but he seemed to struggle with the execution. From what Rhett knew of magic, and Link’s in particular, he could see that constant attempts were wearing him out. It worried him, but Link was stubborn.

All was quiet in the woods save for Link’s gentle breath and the crackle of occasional magic. No birds in the area; Link had scared them off.

Link stood very still, hands up, and after a moment, soft green sparks danced over his palms. He breathed into his chest and pulsed them, shooting the sparks down into the sapling. It twitched as the lightning turned it, rising its leaves to the invisible sun and growing, slowly growing, as Link grit his teeth. The sapling faltered midway, but Link pressed on, grumbling the chant under his breath. The sapling grew into a young tree, then, still encased in green lightning, went tall and sturdy. Link pushed closer and the lightning went silver, twisting up the chrome trunk like a spiral unicorn horn. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of Link’s face, and he stepped in again, sparks going white. The tree writhed and squirmed under the magic, Link pushing all the while, and seemed to take the shape of a woman for only a moment before it fell lifeless, stone cold marble. Link dropped to his knees, exhausted.

“No!” He pressed his forehead to the earth and pounded his fists. Rhett immediately rushed over, kneeling down beside him. Link shuddered with a few frustrated sobs and, with his face still in the dirt, raised a hand and swiped the slate clean, marble tree shriveling into a weak sapling once again.

Rhett put a hand on Link’s shoulder, gentle. Link didn’t flinch. “Hey,” Rhett whispered. “You’ve been working on this one for a while, why don’t you take a break?”

Link didn’t say anything and continued to shiver. He muttered hopelessly to himself, “You can’t do it, you can’t do it,” as Rhett rubbed soothing circles into his back. A few birds returned now, chirping concern from their perches. Rhett looked around, the familiar clearing and the woods beyond, and took a deep, fresh, cleansing breath into his lungs. He told Link to do the same.

“Take a deep breath, Link. Cool off a bit.”

Soon, Link’s shudders ceased and he uncurled. He stood up and scrubbed the dirt, snot, and tears from his face. Then he glared at Rhett, said, “You’re right, I should cool off,” and told him to stand back.

Without another word, Link closed his eyes and spread his arms wide. He said nothing, nary a twitch in his face, as the woodland area dropped in temperature. Rhett watched, fascinated, as frost crept over the damp earth and the trees quivered with chill. Snow fell from the cloudless heavens, and a brisk wind rushed between them. Quicker than Rhett could catch it, their beloved woods went white with magic snow. Icicles dripped from branches and crevices, and flurries of snowflakes kissed Rhett’s cheeks, stinging. He felt the cold, bone-deep, but didn’t move an inch lest he disturb the magician beside him.

Said magician kept his face cool, unaffected by the winter scene he’d created. He breathed steady as the storm raged on, snow piling up at their feet, sky going dark gray, snowflakes spiraling low in the breeze. The sleet of white went on, swirling around them as if suspended in only this moment, only this clearing. Rhett peered through the storm at the rest of the woods which, as he assumed, lay untouched. Wind howled through the snowy basin, and it was only when Rhett shivered deeply, icicles in his eyebrows and beard, did Link collapse. The wind died as quickly as it’d come, and as Link fell into the snowbanks, the last few snowflakes drifted down onto his lashes.

Prostrate in black against the white snow, Link breathed hard, chest rising. The frost began to melt with each breath, but not so fast that Rhett couldn’t shake off the chill and fall down beside Link in the piles of it.

“Link!” he said, brushing a sweaty piece of hair off Link’s forehead. “You wonderful thing! Look at this!”

Link peeked through tired eyes at the thawing winter then gave a tiny smirk. He closed his eyes again, and Rhett wanted to lean down and kiss him. He didn’t, and instead crawled over him and put his hands on his chest. Link kept his eyes closed but smiled wider at Rhett atop him, pinned between his legs and the snowbank. Rhett couldn’t take his palms off Link’s heavy-breathing chest as he continued to spew praise. “Incredible! Fantastic! Stupendous!” He poked Link’s ribs and pinched his cheeks until he giggled, warm and wiggly beneath him. “You are so good, Link. So good. You’re such a powerful sorcerer, I can’t believe it sometimes. You blow my mind.”

Link was really laughing now, chuckling so bright and sunny that the woods mirrored it. He pushed Rhett off him, pink in the cheeks, as he said, “Alright, okay, I get it. I’m the best.”

He tried to roll away in the dirt, but Rhett tackled him again. He kept him pinned with one hand on his chest and looked down into his eyes, stern. Link stared back, challenging.

“You are a great magician, Link,” Rhett said. He could feel the strong breath under his hand, Link’s fluttering heart. “You are incredible. You are a master of sorcery. Don’t ever forget it.”

A tense moment went between them, Rhett pinning Link to the ground, bigger and stronger than him, yet threatening in only the sense that he’d never forgive him if Link ever considered himself a failure. Rhett kept him there, staring him down until he made a silent promise. When he was satisfied, he trailed his hand down Link’s chest and stood up. He pulled Link up with him then slung an arm around his neck. “You push yourself too hard,” he said.

“I know.” Link glanced at his bare feet, grubby from snow and dirt, and turned his face away.

Rhett ruffled his hair to get him smiling again, then lead him towards the cottage. “You need someone to take care of you, so I’m gonna make some soup.”

* * *

After Link lit a fire in the hearth, Rhett set about making soup. He told Link to take it easy, so Link pulled up his stool beside the fire and warmed his sore muscles. As Rhett went about making soup, he glanced over at Link every now and then and caught him staring into the flames. An untraceable pain lingered at his eyes, the furrows of his mouth, but when he looked back at Rhett, he was smiling again. He brushed a shaky hand through his dark hair and tilted his head in a way which Rhett read as, _You’re too good to me_ , and as he sliced potatoes and carrots and dropped them into the cauldron, he cocked his head back as if to say, _You’re right._

With the soup bubbling hot, Rhett told Link a story. He whipped up a fantastic tale of a skeleton warrior seeking his fortune at the base of a goblin’s lair and spun it into gold as he stirred. Link listened patiently, comfortably, and beamed grateful when Rhett finally set a bowl of soup before him. He brought out a few semi-stale sesame crackers and sat adjacent, waiting and watching as Link ate. He sipped the soup until color returned to his cheeks, and only then did Rhett pour a bowl for himself.

When he sat back down, Link seemed chipper once again. Rhett looked at him, his grubby clothes and swipes of dirt on his face and neck, and asked him if he’d ever taken a bath.

“Do you see a bathhouse anywhere around here? Or a tub in this cottage?”

Rhett grinned, Link’s sarcasm a key sign he was feeling better. “So what do you do?”

“I go swimming.”

“In the river?”

“No.” Link sipped his soup.

Rhett took a spoonful to match. It was tastier than anticipated, and he felt proud. Thinking for a moment, Rhett couldn’t remember a swimming hole anywhere in the area save for the grungy pond which wasn’t much more than mud and mosquito larvae. If Link was hiding a beautiful spot from him… “Then where?” Rhett asked.

Link shrugged. “I’ve got a spot.”

That shit! “Oh yeah? Didn’t care to mention it ’til now? What if I need a bath, too?”

Link leaned into the table and sniffed the air. “You do.”

Smiling, Rhett flicked a bit of soupy potato at him. “Then you might as well take me, seeing as you can’t handle my natural musk.”

Link laughed now, a real one. He raised his thin brows and quietly tipped the rest of his soup back, munching down the last of the mushy vegetables. When he lowered the bowl and wiped his mouth, he said, “Alright. Let’s go.”

Rhett wondered if Link ought to travel after a day of such exhaustion, but as Link stood from the table and puttered about the cottage, he seemed fully recovered. Rhett scarfed down the rest of his soup, took a few crackers for good measure, and followed Link as he left the cottage with nothing but a big stretch of cloth bundled up in his arms.

* * *

Just as he had when Link set up the campfire, Rhett trailed behind Link as he lead him through the woods. He stepped over rocks and twigs with such confidence that not a soul would have known he’d been on his knees, brink of tears, only a moment before. However, Rhett’s healing soup and presence seemed to do him good, and Link was soon babbling nonsense once again. Rhett jogged to walk beside him, keeping his eyes on the path, eager to spot the swimming hole.

After a few minutes of walking, a swerve here, a turn there, and a few minutes more after that, they came upon a trickling stream. They stepped over the wet earth, and a grumpy old bullfrog croaked at Rhett as his boot nearly squashed it. Rhett mouthed his apologies down at it as Link skipped ahead.

Link made a small noise in his throat that signaled their arrival and clutched the cloth tighter in his arms. He hopped onto a boulder and turned back at Rhett. Rhett stepped up and looked, first at the skinny boy in black shooting him a knowing grin, then at the scene behind him. With a twitch of his head, Link beckoned Rhett into the most magical grounds he’d seen yet.

Thick was the forest all around them, but the clearing looked as if it’d been carved from the mountainside, not one tree out of place. Late silver clouds streaked the sky, and only the tips of the dusty mountains peeked over the horizon. The smell and sound of water filled the area, and Rhett took a cleansing breath as his eyes went wide. The swimming hole itself consisted of a few natural pools, grassy banks sloping down at the water’s edge. Large boulders broke the pools into sections, fresh spring water trickling one into another, the fullest of them at the base of a waterfall, the smallest of which looked shallow, just enough to rinse their feet. The other two pools deepened at the center, as beautifully blue as the sorcerer’s eyes. Water flowed over rock barriers as the waterfall crashed white into the largest pool, smoothing into peaceful ponds and casting a paragon of swimming hole excellence.

Rhett tittered with excitement, ready to leap in and splash about. Link seemed to feel the same as he hopped off the boulder and walked the perimeter. He came upon a slight dip in the trees and hung the cloth on a low branch. Fluffing it out so two halves fell flat at each side, Link glanced over at Rhett. Then he put his hands on his hips and took a breath, admiring the scene. Rhett watched all of this, silent, captivated by Link as he often was.

Rhett didn’t know he was waiting for permission, but when Link waved him over and told him to, Rhett began kicking out of his boots. They took up a spot beside the shallowest pool, and it didn’t take very long at all for Rhett to feel intimately alone with Link as they began undressing quietly. Rhett tossed his boots aside and pushed his heavy trousers off his legs, leaving him exposed in thin undergarment shorts. He tried not to look as Link stripped his black tunic over his head, muscles in his back catching lovely shadows. Rhett pulled his own tunic off to match, misty breeze on bare skin, and peeked as Link padded down to the water’s edge. Link kept his tight black trousers on as he toed the pool, leaving Rhett to wonder if there was anything under them at all.

The waterfall was close and loud, but a tense silence went palpable between them. Rhett licked his lips and eyed Link as he stood, then kicked his clothes into a pile and joined him by the water. Mud squished under his bare feet as he went, sidling up beside Link and draping an arm across his shoulders. It felt good where their bare skin touched.

“It’s beautiful,” Rhett said, watching the water flow from the falls and down into the pools. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Link wiggled out from under his arm. “Don’t thank me yet,” he stepped into the water, “you haven’t even gotten in.” He turned back and fingered the water playfully. His eyes lit up with mischief, and a big smile spread ‘cross his face. Rhett was dumbstruck at the sight, Link standing there in the water, shirtless, grinning at him. It was like an unrealized dream, a pretty boy with even prettier skin standing before sparkling pools like a young demigod, instead, a sorcerer. All he had to do was hold out a hand, and Rhett was his.

Instead, Link turned back and padded deeper into the water. When it was up to his knees, just barely soaking the hem of his trousers, Link sat on a boulder and propped a wet foot on his knee. Without saying anything else, he grabbed a handful of green from a weed between the rocks and began rubbing it over the blackened sole of his foot. As he scrubbed, dirt, grime, and anything else Link had stepped in clouded the water brown and washed away in the stream. Rhett watched him curiously for another moment before doing the same.

When Link had scratched the last of the questionable muck from his foot, he held it up for Rhett to see in all its clean, pink glory. He wiggled his toes, and Rhett poked the arch. Link set both feet back in the water and hummed contentedly as Rhett scrubbed his own feet, working between his toes to clear away the sweat and grime. After that, they leaned back and breathed a matching sigh.

The sound, smell, and feel of water was enough to lull Rhett to rest as he sat, lazily trailing his feet in sweeping patterns. Link didn’t seem to want to rest, however, as he scrambled over the rock barrier and into the second pool, immediately sinking down to his hips and gasping at the cold. He waded across the pool to the other side, water rising to his waist, and called to Rhett.

“You asked me how I bathe, yeah?” he said, gaining Rhett’s attention. “Like this.” Link scooped water into his palms and splashed them on his torso, rubbing his wet skin. He cupped some into his armpits, the back of his neck, his face, and, Rhett noted bashfully, his groin, and repeated until he was satisfied. Then he bent down and dipped his head in the water, flicking it up and back so his shaggy hair went slick. Water dripped down his face, and Link smiled into it cheekily. “Come on then,” he said.

Rhett didn’t need to be told again. He swiveled over the boulder and stepped down into the pool, paralleling Link a few feet away as he did the same. He rinsed himself as best he could with his hands, scrubbing the (quite honestly, musty) scent from his pits and groin. He and Link eyed each other as he did this, Link wetting himself up too, hands trailing down his abdomen. If the tension had been palpable before, it was nothing compared to the way Rhett and Link watched each other bathe.

From a safe distance, Rhett drank up every inch of Link’s bare torso: the raised muscles in his abdomen, his flat bellybutton, the dark hair at his pelvis disappearing below the waterline, and of course, the impossible cut of his waist. Wet droplets slid down his arms, chest, and belly, and for a hot flash of a moment, Rhett wanted to catch them on his tongue. Unhelpfully, Link then raised his arms and stretched, pulling all the lines and valleys of him tight, ribs peeking through as he groaned in pleasure. This caused Rhett to feel a simmering heat, warm enough to make him swallow hard and flick his tongue over his bottom lip. Color bloomed in his cheeks, so he leaned down and wet his face to cool it away. It didn’t help, and instead left his scrappy beard soaked and matted to his jaw. When he looked back up, Link was watching him, one eyebrow quirked up, both hands behind him, perched on his rump.

“Like what you see?” he teased.

Rhett splashed water at him. “Shut up.”

Link rolled his eyes and spun ‘round, leaving Rhett to ogle at his backside. He continued to scoop and pour water over his head as Rhett looked, broad shoulders and beautiful spine. He studied Link’s rump, the perfect swell of it, then, with Link so temptingly oblivious, Rhett crouched low in the water ’til only his sultry eyes peeked overtop and swiveled as quietly as he could towards him. Link was humming a little tune, peaceful, when Rhett sneaked up behind him and sunk his teeth into his bony hip. Link yelped at the bite and swatted him away, but Rhett was already laughing, sloshing water as he tugged Link under. They scuffled in the shallows, half-playful, until Link broke the surface, gasping. His dark hair lay flat on his forehead, and he swept it up with one hand as he smacked Rhett on the chest with the other. He stood, dripping, and shook out his hair. Rhett stayed low in the water, looking up, wanting nothing more than to put his hands back on Link and take him down again.

Before he could, however, Link clambered up onto the second rock barrier and crossed his arms. He glared down at Rhett, but Rhett wasn’t looking at his face. Link’s black trousers, which were unusually tight anyway, were now soaked through and clung to Link’s legs. They left little to the imagination as far as the shape of his thighs, and, while he didn’t think this was something he’d ever notice about Link, the outline of his cock as well. Rhett’s cheeks burned in the water, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Link’s groin was slightly swollen. Not that he was ogling it, of course (he definitely was).

Link huffed and leapt into the third and deepest pool, immediately disappearing into the water. Rhett crept up to the rocks, heart pounding hot in his chest, and draped his arms over them, the rest of him swaying in the current. He put his chin on his wrist and waited for Link to surface. Rhett breathed slow through his nose, wound up as if there was a coil twisted inside him that wanted to spring, and watched as Link’s dark head popped up with a splash. He swam around a little bit, far away from Rhett, but eventually glanced back at him. Rhett then surged up on the rock like a powerful sea creature and slipped over and into the final pool, a rush of dark, cool water as he sank. He swam to Link underwater, pool deep enough now that he could kick down to the coldest ice melt and push his lungs to their limits. After working hard as a farmer’s son, he was strong and found it easy to hold his breath. When he surfaced, his eyes were blurry and caught the shape of Link swimming towards him. Then he was down again, pushed underwater as Link got his revenge.

They spent the next half hour or so swimming and playing together. All remnants of Link’s outburst from earlier that day were gone as he sidestroked through the pool, leading Rhett to dark corners and back again. They chased each other, raced each other, and played each other as the sun drew closer to the earth. Link was a fast swimmer, but not so quick that Rhett couldn’t catch him by the ankles and drag him down. Naturally, Link always got him back, punching him once in the arm before throwing his body atop him to sink them both.

After a while, when the pads of their fingers were slightly wrinkled and the full expanse of the pool wasn’t enough for him, Link got out and began climbing the waterfall cliff. Rhett watched, curious to see how far the daredevil would go, as he shouted, “What about mermaids?”

Link put his foot in a hold and took it out again. He leaned up against the rock and ran his fingers through his hair, water still running down his body. “What about them?”

“Do they exist? What are they like?” Unlike Link, Rhett was comfortable staying in the water, backstroking, letting the flow carry his weight and loosen his golden curls.

Turning back to the rock cliff, Link looked around for another way up. “Well, there’s none around here, that’s for sure. They thrive on the coast, only some breeds live in lakes and marshes, but I’d stay away from those.”

One arm back, then the other. Tranquil. “And the ones in the sea?”

Link took a moment to peer at a slope, then scrambled up by using roots as holdfasts. He grunted as he went, still responding, “Salty. Like to pull sailors to their deaths.”

“I thought that was sirens?”

“Both. Sirens - they’re more green and scaly, look a bit demonic - are infamous for it, which is why a sailor’s so - ugh!” He pulled himself up to the top and rolled over, breathing hard. “They’re so… _surprised_ when a seemingly innocent mermaid - classically beautiful fish woman - lures them in, drowns them.” He made it to his feet now, damp trousers muddy from the climb. He walked tentatively over to the edge and looked down the waterfall. He whistled, but Rhett couldn’t hear it under the rushing water. They had to raise their voices to call down to each other, but otherwise sound carried quite well in the hollowed clearing.

Rhett dunked, waterfall static going quiet for a moment, then popped back up and wiped his face. He pushed his hair up out of his eyes and looked at Link, who was peering curiously down at the pool below. The cliff was high enough that Link made him nervous, but not so high that Rhett wouldn’t jump it if he’d had enough ale in him.

The head of the waterfall rushed fast beside Link’s feet, stretching back into a river that ran down from the mountains. Rhett looked from Link to the falls to the height and back again. Link was a brave soul, but he was stupid, too, oftentimes the combination which got them into trouble and would continue to, shall I say, for the rest of their time together.

Rhett was still hung up on mermaids. “How do you know so much?” he called.

“Books!” Link called back. “What, don’t you read?”

Rhett smiled, caught. He was about to snap back when Link took a running start and leapt from the cliffside, falling fast through the air and landing a cannonball in the pool below. Rhett squeezed his eyes as the wave hit him, then looked to see Link swimming towards him. Rhett swam to where his feet could touch and waited for Link to join him. When he did, he was radiant, eyes wide like a little brother’s asking, _Did you see that? Did you see me jump?_

Rhett’s cheeks went tight, _Yes, I did, I watched you,_ as Link came close. He toed to find the mud Rhett stood in, feet brushing against Rhett’s legs, and held onto one of Rhett’s arms for balance. Rhett looked down at him, fondness in his eyes, and slowed Link by putting both hands on his bare waist underwater. Link stopped flailing and lost his breath.

Rhett kept him there, between his hands, for an electric moment. Link’s skin was taut on his torso, trim sides a flawless fit under Rhett’s hands. The two of them looked at each other with nothing to say as Link pressed closer, so close Rhett could feel his thighs and maybe, just maybe, what sat between them. Rhett held his breath as his thumbs gently rubbed the skin above Link’s hem, Link’s blue gaze holding steady, and then Link was twisting away, diving back into the deep and leaving the ghost of his body in Rhett’s empty hands.

* * *

When they’d finally had enough of the water and returned to the bank, they stood on both sides of the cloth in the tree and patted themselves dry. Rhett peeked at Link over the branch and around the cloth, unable to take his eyes off him for more than a few moments. Once dry, Link shook out his black, long-sleeved tunic as best he could and put it back on. Rhett did the same with his, and soon they were clothed again (unfortunately).

Clean as could be, Rhett and Link took up a boulder and a stump and breathed easy. Fixing their damp hair, they let their muscles rest and their bones set back in place, and within minutes, Rhett found himself wanting to talk. He turned to Link and, before he could think, asked, “Did you know your father?”

Link blanched, surprised by the question. The frustrated crease in his brow he’d worn before the swim returned, and with it, Link couldn’t meet Rhett’s eyes. “Not at all.”

“Your mother didn’t tell you anything about him?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Rhett rubbed at his thighs. Link looked at him, steady, then looked back at the sky. It was almost three colors now, gray then purple then orange, and the early evening light glowed a dim blue. Unsure how long they’d been swimming for, Rhett felt his stomach gurgle, a hunger so deep it went up his chest at the base of his throat. He tried to swallow the tightness away, but Link’s silence kept it tense. Rhett dug his fingernails into his knees. He had something to say, and it seemed now was a good a time as any. “Link-“

Link interrupted him, “Actually, I’ve been thinking of going to look for her.”

The tightness in Rhett’s throat clamped his belly. “What?”

“You told me she might still be out there waiting for me, so I’m going to look for her.”

“Who, your mother?”

“Who else?”

Knots coiled tighter. It was silent as Rhett didn’t know what to say. The stupid, selfish part of his brain kicked in first. “Well, we could-“

Again, Link interrupted him. He kept his eyes on the forest, brow creased. “By myself.”

“Oh,” Rhett repeated. The sickening feeling in his stomach twisted so violently that he thought he might be nauseated. Embarrassed at the deeply physical reaction to Link’s words, Rhett swallowed the feeling and kept his voice calm, even as he still didn’t know what to say. “By yourself?” seemed to be what he settled on, unfortunately.

Link looked at him, brows still low on his forehead. “Yes, Rhett. Some things you have to do alone.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” Link glared at him for real now, and Rhett immediately felt the change.

The space between them went tense as Rhett stared back, gearing up for a conversation he wasn’t ready to have, a conversation he didn’t think would come. “Yeah, Link, I do. I’ve spent most of my life alone, remember?”

“You say that, but you don’t understand.”

Heat rose at Rhett’s collar. “ _I_ don’t understand? Link, what are you even saying?”

Link swiveled his body on the stump and faced Rhett. The intensity of his eyes chilled him, but Link kept them steady on Rhett’s as he said, “I’m saying I don’t know where my mother is because she left me. She left me, and I have no clue where or why, so I’m going to find out. I’m going to go out and find her, and I’m going to do it without you. That’s what I’m saying.”

 _Without you. I’m going to do this without you._ Rhett glared back, thoroughly unsettled. He muttered, “Timing, Link,” under his breath because of _course_ Link would change the plan on them right now, right after they’d promised everything to each other, of _course_ Link would be mad at him for this, for _this,_ which Rhett clearly had no part in save for that Link thought he was, apparently, a roadblock.

Rhett folded his arms, perhaps only in an attempt to cradle his heart. “Alright, so you go off after her. Who says you’ll find her? It’s been six years, Link, she’s probably de-“

Link rose quickly. “Don’t you say that. Don’t you dare say that again.”

Rhett stayed down and looked up at Link. His heart was beating quick, and there was an unplaceable pain coursing through his body, but the more it hurt, the more he wished it not to. “I’m trying to be logical, Link.”

“No, you’re being insensitive. Especially for someone who lost his mother.”

This made Rhett falter. For a moment, or perhaps longer than a moment, Rhett had completely forgotten about his own mother. He remembered now, her golden hair and her laughter and her songs, the way her red lips went pale with the sickness as Rhett watched her die. He’d forgotten all of it, and for what? Because a mysterious boy with an unparalleled charm eased his heartache for a while? Distracted him? Nobody could take Rhett’s mother from him, or at least the memory that remained, and here Link was, doing just that.

Rhett stood up now, keeping away from Link in body but not in the eyes, holding his gaze firm as he breathed through his nose. He scowled and fired back, “I don’t need to go looking for her to confirm what I already know. I watched her die; I know where she is… In the cemetery behind the village.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Link asked. “How can you speak of your mother this way, speak of mine? You’re insensitive and can’t even see it.”

Looking to the trees for strength, Rhett pressed his lips together. “Maybe I am,” he told the branches, “but at least I know what’s in front of me. I see things for what they are, unlike you.”

Link made a noise, but Rhett kept talking. He pitched his voice up high and turned back at Link, mocking him. “ _‘Oh, isn’t it wonderful being magical? I can just whisk my problems away and go frolicking off in the woods with all the little bunnies and fairies! My mother’s probably dead but it’s alright, I’m a magic boy! I’ll find her and bring her back! I can do anything!’”_

Link stepped forward, glowering. “Stop it. Stop it now.”

Rhett didn’t stop. “ _‘I don’t think my actions affect anyone else because I’ve spent so many years alone that I don’t know how to interact with people at all! But surely, of course, I can just skip out on my friends and chase a mystery six years too late!_ _I’m sure that will lead to bounding success!’”_ Rhett hated himself more with every word he spat, but he said them anyway. When Link’s eyes began to glaze with tears, Rhett’s stomach surged with pain. He swallowed it down. “I’m sorry,” he tried, voice low once more, “but it’s just not realistic.”

None of the tears fell as Link stepped closer and countered him. “You don’t know anything. You don’t know me, and you _certainly_ don’t know my mother. All you know is your own sadness, stuck in this blue haze you made for yourself. Well, at least I’m going somewhere, getting out. You say you want adventure in the great wide somewhere? Go find it! All you do is sit around and mope about it! Did you ever even try, Rhett? Did you ever even _try?_ Did you ever go up to your father and say, _‘Hey, I’m sorry, but I need to seek my future?’_ No, you didn’t, because you’re scared. You’re weak, and you’re scared of what’s out there, and that’s why you only ever think about yourself. Sure, it’s fine taking me back to _your_ village, meeting _your_ father, but me? The moment I need to do something for myself? Nothing, not even a kind word. God, Rhett!” Link put his hands in his hair and pulled. He leaned down, fists tight on his scalp, then swept back up, grunting. His cheeks were pink with anger but still, not one tear slipped. “Once,” he went on, “for once in my ridiculously standstill life, I’ve got the drive to go out and search for answers, and you’re just going to stand there and blame me for that. That’s great. You preach and you preach but you can’t even follow.”

“I would follow, if you let-“

“No! _No!_ I don’t want you to follow me this time, Rhett. That’s what I’m saying. Stop following me!” he shouted, turning and stomping away.

Rhett followed. “That’s why you’ve been practicing magic, isn’t it? You were planning to leave all along?”

Link stopped him. “Go away.”

Rhett grabbed Link by the arm. “And what happens if you find her, then? Gonna show her a crystal bowl you made from a pebble? Sure she’ll be _real_ impressed.”

“Shut up, just shut up.”

He tightened his grip. “You say I don’t support you, but I do. I do support you, Link. All I’ve ever _done_ is support you.”

Link squirmed in his hold. “Let go of me.”

“No.”

Link’s tears fell now, sliding wet down his cheeks. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Get _off!”_ Quick as lightning, Link swung his free arm up and slapped Rhett hard across the face.

Rhett didn’t have time to sting before Link was shoving him back, two hands on his chest. His eyes burned dark like blue flames, _Please, Rhett, just leave me alone,_ but Rhett couldn’t.

He snapped, pushing Link back with such force he fell to the ground. Rhett then pounced on him, shoulder knocking against his jaw. He grabbed for him, whatever he could get, and pushed into him. Link groaned beneath him and beat his fists on Rhett’s back as Rhett rolled them over. Link sat atop now, hitting him in a flurry of fists, all over his chest and arms, and for a moment, Rhett wanted to lay there and let him. Then he remembered all painful things Link said to him, and anger surged again. Rhett pressed up and rolled them back, pinning Link under his weight, one hand pressing down on Link’s throat. Link gasped for breath, and Rhett’s insides went red-hot.

He kept him there for a moment, rough, looking down into Link’s eyes, hoping to catch some semblance of a truce. Link didn’t let up, though, and pulled him over _again,_ causing them to tussle through the dirt. Rhett gripped at Link’s waist, resisting him as he squirmed for control, then tried to catch his wrists as they swatted about his chest and face. In the struggle, he clipped Link’s nose, so Link hit back, a solid smack on Rhett’s jaw. Pain shot through it and up to his skull, and in a red rage, Rhett pushed Link’s face into the dirt. He kept pushing until Link was drooling, writhing and kicking his legs. Rhett released him only to roll over once more, Link pushing his face into the crook of Rhett’s neck as he punched Rhett’s sides.

They scuffled like that for a while until they’d gotten in as many hits as they could, then began wrestling for real. Grunting as they fought, the two boys turned the peaceful swimming grounds into a war zone. Rhett manhandled Link, throwing him around as they kicked up dust, but Link gave just as good as he got. He could take a beating, and quickly flipped the script.

Link soon had Rhett at his mercy, pulling on his arms and legs until he yelped. He used Rhett’s bony body against him, bruising him with little sympathy. Both of them panted breathlessly, smacked around, slapped up. In the tussle of it, the two boys who were once clean dirtied themselves again, rolling around in the muck, stripes of dust sticking to snot, leaves and twigs in their clothes, rocks cutting up their tender skin as they slammed each other against the earth.

Rhett’s body hurt and his face was hot, raw from Link’s slap, indignant tears blurry in his eyes. As Link pulled him up by a fist in his tunic and slammed him down again, Rhett spotted blood trickling from Link’s nose, a pink scratch on his cheek. He gabbed for Link’s arms then shoved him off, terrified by his own strength and slightly aroused at Link’s.

He was about to crawl away when Link pounced him again, brawl unfinished. He barreled into him with all his weight and knocked the wind from Rhett’s lungs. Rhett clawed at the dirt with a gasp as Link pushed into him, harder and harder until it seemed Rhett’s ribs would surely crack against the ground. When he finally tapped out, Link pushed him away and scrambled to his feet.

Link stood, hunched and breathing hard, as Rhett got up.It was quiet, save for their tense breath and the waterfall. Hesitant, they eyed each other, unsure if the other’s beast had calmed. Rhett regarded Link, his messy hair and dirty face, the red blood which he licked from his lips, the cuts and marks on his cheeks, and, worst of all, the betrayal in his eyes. With brows deeply creased, he snarled at Rhett like a feral dog, daring him to get closer.

Rhett couldn’t help it; he stepped forward and reached out a hand. “Link.”

Suddenly, a hot flash of lightning, blocking Rhett and singeing his hand. Knocked back by the force of it, Rhett hissed at the pain. Daring to glance at Link, Rhett found him unchanged, still as stone, angry eyebrows down. Rhett swallowed hard. He’d nearly forgotten what a powerful sorcerer Link was, and a dangerous one at that.

He clasped his stinging palm close to his heart. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Okay.”

Link said nothing. He kept his eyes on Rhett for a dreadful second longer, then turned and sprinted off into the woods. He didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert gif of Satanic Elmo basking in the flames*


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mornings always provided him a somewhat mythical space in which to daydream, a gentle moment to gaze at the sky and elope into fantasy.

Link was gone for more than a week. In that time, Rhett went through the worst of it. As soon as Link had disappeared, Rhett stared, dumbstruck, at the spot he’d just been. The waterfall trickled on as if it’d seen nothing, blissfully cool. Rhett blinked once in the silence, then turned and walked all the way back home, body sore from Link’s ferocity. He didn’t make any noise as he went, but the overactive gears in his mind soon began turning.

They didn’t stop turning for the rest of the night. In his thoughts, Rhett went through the discussion leading up to the fight and the fight itself, replaying Link’s words until the wounds had scarred over. He couldn’t shake Link’s angry eyes or his warning spell, the pain in his voice and the feel of his body as it slammed him into agony. They’d gone from splashing about in what Rhett would call one of the happiest moments of his life, to scuffling so terribly in the dirt that Rhett felt guilty the woods had seen it. The atmosphere had shifted between them and the tension, that which Rhett knew for certain they had, had come to a frightening peak. And, while it seemed Link’s unpredictable mood swing had caused the fight in the first place, as he looked back on it now, Rhett knew Link had already been struggling. He’d pushed himself to his limits earlier that day and, if Rhett had been more observant, he would have known not to press him on the point of his father. He was stupid, though, and couldn’t see. He couldn’t see any of it, and now he’d fucked it up for sure. 

Once home, Rhett scrubbed the last traces of dirt and Link’s hands off in the well, and, as you can imagine, had trouble falling asleep. Silently, he bemoaned the situation, gazing longingly out his attic window at the woods as if a skinny sorcerer would come traipsing out of them, apologizing. 

But Rhett knew better. He knew Link wasn’t coming back, that he wasn’t going to apologize, and that most of what he’d said had been right. Rhett _did_ wish for adventure without actually seeking it, and he _did_ spend most of his time doing what he was doing now, moping about his farm. Rhett was insensitive when it came to both of their mothers and oversensitive about Link’s attachment to him, or lack thereof. He claimed to support Link in everything but failed to support him in the one journey he needed most, one he needed to take alone. 

Yes, Rhett had definitely acted a fool, or worse, when standing before Link, and he regretted every moment of it. Rhett had hurt Link out of his own selfishness, and he knew before he’d even said it that his slough of insults should have been thrown back at him. See, Rhett, unlike Link, had the opportunity to learn from his friends and neighbors but instead retreated into his own loneliness. He couldn’t blame Link for not knowing how to interact with people, as clearly, he didn’t know how to either. 

In fact, Rhett had done the complete opposite of what he’d intended, which was let another person rile him up to the point of not recognizing himself. He couldn’t recognize the boy who’d grabbed his friend by the arm and refused to let him go, even as he begged. He didn’t know what kind of person would use their dead mother as leverage or shove someone’s face into the dirt with little mercy. Rhett didn’t know who that person was, or who it was that had gotten him into this whole mess. Wasn’t he swearing eternal independence just two months prior? Thinking he’d never fall privy to the tricky talons of love? Yet here he was, pining so desperately for someone that he’d smothered them in the process.

Rhett pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He tried not to hate himself too much for this. Well, that was a lie, he didn’t try in the slightest. All of the pride and comfort he’d felt in the past few weeks with Link made this familiar self-loathing even worse, almost as if he didn’t deserve the joy Link had brought him. He didn’t deserve his friendship and kindness, or any of it, really, because he didn’t know how to cherish it. How could it be that the one time Rhett asked the fates for a friend, he scared off the boy they’d sent him? He’d been so eager for something that he was overzealous when it came. He had ruined it for himself, like a kid given too much candy after having never tasted sugar. _God,_ Link had been the sweetest sugar. 

Rhett fell into a troubled sleep around three in the morning, eyes gritty, sweat at the back of his knees and tailbone, and an unmistakable hurt in all the places Link had touched him, including but not limited to his heart. 

In the morning, his red marks had faded and bruises took their place. Body aching with the weight of bad decisions, Rhett lay unmoving until he heard his father padding about downstairs. Only then did Rhett rise and urge himself to ask for help. His father was pressing cornmeal into rounds when Rhett hovered at the base of the stairs. He must have looked a mess, for his father asked, “You alright, son?” and beckoned him over.

Taking up a seat at the kitchen table, Rhett offered the truth. “No. Link and I had a fight.” 

Oliver lowered his brows and pressed his lips together. He looked at Rhett as if asking him to go on, but Rhett wasn’t there yet. Admitting the fight was hard enough. Rhett kept solemn, eyes down, and his father understood. 

He set the plate of breakfast aside and joined Rhett at the table. He pulled the chair out a respectful distance, as he knew Rhett usually liked his space in ruts like this. He waited, then asked, “Do you want my advice?”

Rhett shrugged. He didn’t yet know how to go about anything at the current moment. None of it made sense and everything was terrible. Still, a few kind words from the gentle mind of his father would probably do him good. He blinked slow again, then nodded.

His father licked his lips. It reminded Rhett of himself. Then he took a breath and said, “Friendships are hard. Male friendships are even harder. When I was your age, I had a friend named Jonathan. We called him Jonas - there were three of us - but Jonas and I were closest and honestly, the third guy isn’t worth remembering save for the fact he gave the nickname in the first place.” Oliver gave a small, fond smile. “The two of us, we did everything together, as you and Link do now. We were always at each other’s cottages, exploring the woods around here, just as you are. I understand how incredible that type of bond is, that brotherhood.” He paused.

Rhett swallowed hard. His throat was dry and he was hungry and strung out but he wouldn’t dare be anywhere else than right here, with his dad, hearing this story. He said nothing, flaring his nostrils to breathe steady.

Quirking the corner of his lip, Oliver continued. “Sometimes young boys do terribly foolish things. They have this uncontrollable energy, especially in a small place like this, and it leads to reckless behavior. I can see by those cuts and bruises you know what I’m talking about. You and Link… you fought, yes? That’s what happens when you’re close to someone. But I can tell you, Rhett, and I want you to really hear me, you _cannot_ be oblivious. Do not be reckless, do not pretend you’re brave when faced with something truly frightening.”

The seriousness of his father’s voice curled anxiety in Rhett’s stomach, as did what he might be hinting at. Rhett’s heartbeat picked up the fear in his stomach and prayed his father didn’t catch on to whatever the hell was happening inside him. His physical reactions to Link’s proximity alone were enough to send him leaping out of his skin, but the hurt in his heart after the night before absolutely terrified him. Again, he didn’t respond, but shifted in his seat to indicate he was listening.

His father took a deep breath, and then his face contorted into a sort of reminiscent pain. “One day,” he said, “Jonas and I decided to cross as many provinces as we could to make it to the coast. It was a long trip and we definitely fought along the way, but when we got there, the ocean was worth every minute in that mule cart. That trip is what inspired me to travel, actually. Vienna, where I found your guitar, that was Jonas’s dream.” Oliver fell quiet again. Rhett had a morbid feeling he knew where this was going, and he was too depressed to hear it. Regardless, his father went on. “We’d been on the coast only a week before the big storm hit. Jonas was always chasing a thrill and, even though we’d spent every moment in the water up until then, wanted to swim out. I pleaded him not to but he went on and on about chasing life and embracing danger, and while I didn’t think braving an elemental storm in the middle of the ocean was a good idea, I loved him like a brother, and I would follow him to our deaths.”

Neither Rhett nor his father made any noise for a moment, not even a breath. The early morning was quiet outside the cottage, and soft light streamed in now, falling in streaks across their kitchen table. Rhett had never felt closer to his father than he did in this month knowing Link, and he lamented knowing Link had already affected every aspect of his life for the better, including his stoic relationship with his father. He braced himself now, pushing Link out of his head in respect to Oliver. Rhett knew what his father was going to say before he said it.

“Unfortunately, that seemed to be the case. I had convinced him to let me take him out in an old kingdom boat and help him swim at the eye of the storm, and that is my regret. You hear this now and wonder how in _God’s_ name could we have been so stupid, and I can’t give you an answer. We rowed out there over the waves, letting the current draw us in a spiral, rain and lightning all the way. Eventually, we overwhelmed ourselves and Jonas let go. I’m not sure if he jumped out to swim or if the water took him. I just remember seeing the faintest hint of him below a wave and then somehow surviving myself. I’m sure I may have worked my way back to the beach somehow, but I really can’t remember.” He had been studying the grain on the table as he said this, but now looked up at Rhett.

Rhett hurt for his father. He didn’t even want to try empathizing, feeling that pain, as thinking of losing Link in that way was truly a nightmare. He swallowed dryly again and found a nasty, bitter taste on his tongue. Then his eyebrow twitched and he realized they’d been deeply creased and he was frowning. Slowly, he loosened his face and took a breath. He looked right at his father and said, “I’m so sorry, pa.”

Oliver traced a finger over the table. Once again, it reminded Rhett of himself, and he began to ache deep beneath his ribs. His poor father had experienced so much loss in his life, more than Rhett even knew. Him sharing this with Rhett now may have been the first and only time he’d ever opened up to anyone about this particular boy. Dreadfully, his father had known Jonas for years before this happened, and Rhett had only known Link for a series of whirlwind weeks. It was awful to compare the situations and he was desperate not to lest he curse the both of them, but thinking about losing Link at all was even too much.

It humbled him. His father was still gentle and caring as ever, albeit as lonely as Rhett himself. Rhett was young and lucky to be so, and knowing Link so fresh was a blessing. If they were as close as Rhett hoped they’d be, they would stay friends a long time after this fight. This was small. Losing a brother to the eye of a storm was not.

Rhett creased his brow and looked at his hands. He couldn’t say how terrible it was, but he tried all the same. “That sounds absolutely horrifying. I’m heartbroken for you.” He felt raw, and his voice was rough from silence and lack of sleep. “I can’t even imagine. I don’t even know how to thank you for telling me this. It humbles me. I know what you’re saying now.”

“You know what I’m saying?” His father perked up, folding his arms and challenging Rhett to continue.

Still, Rhett didn’t want to admit to the context of him and Link. He didn’t know how he’d go about explaining it, anyway. Instead, he nodded and wiped his face on his tunic roughly. “We should probably eat something.”

Oliver released his tension in a shrug. “I’ll finish breakfast.” He rose from the table and walked behind Rhett, putting a hand on his shoulder. He pinned Rhett in place and spoke over his head. “I’ve always known you as a person capable of great love, Rhett. You love so much, and so purely. You are loyal and a very good friend to Link. I hope you realize what you have before it’s too late, and by that I mean you need to chase what you want. Be braver than you’ve been. I promise it will be worth it.”

Rhett’s heart skipped a beat. Oliver pat him on the shoulder and went back to the cornmeal rounds, whistling an innocent tune as he dusted them with spices. Rhett sat, dumbstruck once again, as his heart fluttered nervously. Then he slowly rose and went back to the well outside, rinsing himself once more just to clear the last of his lingering pain.

* * *

In the days following the talk with his father, Rhett reconsidered his situation. He went about his daily chores to clear his head, feeding the pigs and chickens as they moseyed about his feet. Throwing down handfuls of corn, Rhett let his eyes glaze over and settle on the early morning horizon. The mornings always provided him a somewhat mythical space in which to daydream, a gentle moment to gaze at the sky and elope into fantasy. He’d often find his thoughts chasing Link through the woods, and now was no exception.

While still hurting, Rhett knew he was lucky to know Link as he did. It seemed they still had so much life ahead of them, nothing had ended for real. Rhett knew Link would come home soon enough, either with or without his mother, and he knew by that point he’d miss Link so much that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from apologizing and groveling at his feet like a lovesick fool. He understood that about himself now; he was more romantic than he let on. He needed Link in many ways, but his pining heart tied them together differently than Jonas and his father. Jonas and his father were more like brothers, not the weird, flirtatious mostly-friends he and Link were. Rhett didn’t know that for sure, of course, but that’s what he assumed.

A pig bumped against his leg. Rhett looked down at its brown, freckled back and considered his father. He wondered what he had been like, so young and stupid like him. He knew he must have been handsome, as he was still handsome now, and by the look of him, athletically built. He was a charmer, that Rhett knew, but if he had been anything like Rhett, he must have been completely oblivious. Thinking of it now, Rhett wanted to know if Jonas had liked him the way Rhett liked Link. Maybe Jonas was a darker soul than Oliver let on, maybe he was hurt like Rhett because his friend didn’t want him back. Maybe his father had known about his feelings and shamed him for them, berating him for disrupting the brotherhood. Maybe Rhett was more like Jonas, anyway, doomed to the same fate.

Rhett felt a sting and slowly uncurled his tightening grip on the metal bucket handle. He relaxed his face and his shoulders and urged himself not to dwell on it. _It’s no use,_ he told himself. _Thinking about it does nothing. Wait until he comes back._ Rhett threw a final handful of feed down at his livestock and shoved a few pigs out of the way with his long legs in exiting the pen. He shook all the anxious thoughts from his head and tried to finish up the rest of his chores in a peaceful state of mind. Of course, you and I both know Rhett well enough by now to say he was most likely unsuccessful in that.

However, despite all the pain and wonderings in Rhett’s lamentation of Link, something kept coming back to him that made everything infinitely more interesting and equally terrifying. The dreams which Rhett had been having about Link before, those which bordered on romantic, were now unmistakably so. Rhett was no stranger to his dreams, and after meeting Link, he knew they were a valuable asset in, well, assessing his feelings for Link. He’d come to learn the difference between physical feelings and emotions that came from the head. Dreams often blended the two, leaving him to fantasize about Link in seemingly innocent, somewhat compromising positions. He’d feel everything, Link’s presence and his smile and the press of his body. He’d know Link’s laugh and how to unravel the things Link’s dream-self said. It was like being in another world with Link, a world which allowed Rhett to kiss and touch all he pleased.

Rhett was good enough at interpreting his dreams, at least his nightmares. As we know, he’d suffered from what his neighbors might call teenage angst. During these years, up to and including meeting Link, Rhett would have a myriad of nightmares, some gruesome, some completely bizarre. Corpses here and there gave way to shadows, and the curling fear in Rhett’s stomach which usually lingered long after he awoke became daily routine. Then, when he’d met Link, his dreams spiked curious and queer, and Link came through, prominent as ever. Rhett understood those earlier dreams better these days; he’d been utterly clueless before. Now, of course, he only ever dreamt of Link.

This included the shameful fantasies, those lusty dreams which Rhett still didn’t fully understand. Sexual and demanding, they came to him now as clear as waking lust. Rhett’s dream-self would respond similarly to the way he did seeing Link bare, heat coiling in his stomach and prompting that thing between his legs. These dreams would often start relatively boring, twist into something horrific, and end with Link. Sometimes, it was all a mess of sex and questions and memories, a nightmarish scene that, quite honestly, left Rhett terrified.

Needless to say, Link was there in all of them, dancing through Rhett’s dream landscape, be it the town, the woods, or somewhere Rhett couldn’t recognize. Each dream, no matter how they varied, Rhett was true to himself. This went for Link as well - his dreamy figure spritely and alive, drawn with a quick mouth and powerful, wandering hands. It was almost like having Link back with him, almost. His eyes always seemed to be what Rhett remembered most, though, as well as the feel of his body, his teeth and fingers and hips and shoulders and _God_ -

Rhett shivered. He’d lost himself once again. Pausing his chores, Rhett leaned up against the stone wall at the back of his house, slate warmed by the sun. He blinked into the glare and wiped the sweat from his face. Heated by more than daylight, the farmer’s boy smiled into his flushed cheeks. He was definitely going insane over this, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it, right?

Naturally, Rhett often drifted off into memory of Link’s body when he caught a moment alone, the thoughts hounding him with the gentle press of Link’s soft, wet mouth. Link would nip him everywhere, kiss his neck and shoulders, his belly. Shamefully, Rhett liked best the dreams in which that perfect mouth sucked at him, leaving red marks in its wake. Other scenes would whisk through, erotic and romantic: Link kissing him in the moonlight at the hidden waterfall, lacing his fingers in Rhett’s at the ocean’s edge, laying him down in a field of hay and covering his body with the weight of him, you get the idea. Everything, anything, _all of it-_ any little fantasy that could get Rhett feeling something he hadn’t in a long time, if ever, and he claimed them _all._ Link had fallen into place in Rhett’s waking life in a somewhat unsure manner, and his dreams were making up for missing him.

It was ridiculous, completely, that Rhett was switching between bemoaning Link and hating himself in the same moment his body and mind had decided alight him.

In fact, sometimes Rhett’s dreams would work him up so much that he’d awake swollen between the legs. As you can imagine, all he could do to relieve himself was get a hand around himself and stroke until he finished, thinking of Link’s tight, masculine frame to crest him through it. And, as if the mornings weren’t bad enough, he’d often get a hot flash of Link when doing chores, cleaning the kitchen or letting the sheep out, as is evident by his current situation. Link’s body and face were all over him, always, completely unhelpful in distracting him as well as in making him crave Link’s physical touch even more. He’d settle for a hand on his thigh, but soon that horny part of him would have Link putting his hot lips up to his ear, curving his hand over this thigh, fingers close to groin and then cupping -

Rhett groaned and slipped down the wall. He was doing it _again._ He steadied himself, straightened himself up, and pushed off the stone. He moseyed back into his house, trying not to replay the dreams or fantasize a moment longer and, unsurprisingly, failing.

* * *

Two days after that and Rhett felt relatively sane again, so he vowed to get out of his slump and take a day on the town. He longed to visit his favorite places, and he knew in stopping by he’d force himself to relive the day he’d had with Link. Rhett wanted to be braver than he’d been, like his father said, and that meant facing the good memories along with the bad. So, early one Thursday, Rhett fed the animals and packed a rucksack with food and books. He slung it over his shoulder and walked confidently down the road in the valley, giving June a small wave as he passed her yard. She smiled at him like she understood his hurt, and Rhett figured she probably did.

When he made it to the town market square, the people were doing as they always were, flitting about. This time, Rhett was grateful to see them. He gave a quick look at each building and glanced once or twice about the square. There wasn’t much worth noting save for the accordion player at the corner and a couple giving love-eyes outside the candy shop. Rhett decided not to observe anyone for too long and slipped quickly down the street, disappearing into the alley leading up to his hillside. Rhett then took up beneath his favorite tree and breathed into the wind. He spent the next hour or two reading his books and munching on apples and biscuits, eventually heading back into town twelve or thirteen chapters later and thirsty as a dog.

Rhett rinsed his mouth in a spout beside the road and drank until his stomach hurt. Splashing some water on his face, he felt a strange urge to do something stupid, and when he flipped up and smoothed back his damp amber bangs, he found himself staring directly at the pub. Without another moment to doubt himself, he slung his rucksack and trudged towards it.

Just as he’d expected, the town pub was dark and slightly uninviting. While the bartender only nodded at him, the patrons around the bar gave him steely looks. He deserved it, of course, as he wasn’t a regular by any means, and he looked rather scrawny and worn-out. However, that’s just how he felt, so he told the graybeard behind the bar he wanted whiskey-ale, his father’s drink, and added, “I’ve had a rough week.”

“Yeah?” the bartender grunted, wiping out a frosted glass mug. “So’s everyone else here.”

Rhett said nothing and glanced at the two burly guys at either side. He must have looked uncomfortable (he was), for the bartender continued.

“They’re looking at you like that ‘cause they don’t think you belong here. Young and skinny, bit of a lightweight, yeah? And not from around here, are you?”

The young farmer gulped the stone in his throat. “No, I am. I live just up the road, my whole life. I’m a farmer. Don’t,” he gave a half-hearted chuckle, “don’t drink much. Looking to tonight.”

The bartender quirked a silver brow. Rhett had definitely overshared, so he held his breath. Slowly, the bartender’s grizzled face loosened and he almost smiled. He slapped the mug on the bar and immediately retrieved a gorgeous crystal flask of whiskey. He filled a third of the oversized mug with it, then topped off the rest with frothy ale. He slid it to Rhett and pounded a fist against the bar.

“Drink up, boy. Much bad luck yet to come!”

Rhett looked down at the concoction. He knew it was a nasty mix, but it was sure to get him more than merry, and that’s exactly what he needed. He raised his glass, toasted the bartender, and took a swig.

The bar erupted into cheers, “Hear, hear!” and “Hyah!” and everyone in the joint drank. Rhett swallowed sour and coughed, and when he looked again, everyone in the place was toasting him. Then, as quick as it’d come, they turned away, slithering into the shadows or back between their whore’s legs. Rhett blinked slow, warmth bleeding in his belly. He supposed the toast was his official welcome, and he turned back to the bar merrily, set about drinking himself to death. He took another awful swig, then another and another, and by the time he felt the pressure between his hips, his eyes had gone droopy. 

Rhett ran his fingers on the grooves of the wooden bar and faded between barfly conversations and sounds of drunkenness. In their voices, he caught bits about pretty girls, more often called tarts or wenches, as well as a sailor’s tale. Rhett kept drinking and listening until he’d lost himself to the sea, a young lad coasting the country’s edge, meeting handsome sailors, falling for mermaids, the works. He swayed on his stool, taking a few more awful mouthfuls, tongue going number with each swig. Looking around the bar, he found a few oil paintings on the walls, most of which were of glass bottles or naked women. Some tired plants sat in the only windowsill, and behind the bar along the wall of bottles hung wanted posters and ransom notes. Rhett didn’t want to know how many people in here were criminals, ruffians. They were here to douse their pain with poison just as Rhett was. He supposed he wasn’t exactly like them, but he wasn’t _unlike_ them, either. Rhett was sure most of the men here had wronged someone, most likely someone they loved, Rhett included. 

Rhett paused and smacked his mouth. His tongue was disgustingly bitter and he’d slouched over on his stool. He rolled his neck, took another swig (wasn’t there more in this glass?) and felt someone sidle up next to him.

He sensed the body before he saw a face, and when he blinked tipsy into focus, he found it to be a very blonde, very pretty woman. He smiled at her, looked again, and couldn’t determine if she was a whore or not. Usually, and this was the by the law of his town, you could tell if a woman was a whore by the amount of rouge on her lips and the state of her dress. If it was brightly colored, slightly tacky and tight to the form, she may have sold sex. If it was a little ripped, muddy at the hem, or split at her upper thigh, she definitely did. Rhett wasn’t smart enough in this moment to deduce her, and instead called for another drink as she introduced herself.

Rhett didn’t catch her name, but in the memory of this moment he finds himself calling her Winona. Winona was beautiful, a dream in a peach gown that cut across her shoulders and dipped low at her cleavage, long blonde hair pulled into two spirals that met in a ponytail at the base of her neck. Rhett wouldn’t have noticed this and her finer details if he hadn’t been so fixated on the ethereal fascination that was a gorgeous woman. How did they exist? Looking like that? And how did they function? How did their hips swell like that, their laughter and their soft mouths…? If Rhett had been bolder (and straighter), he might have had the answers, but he wasn’t, so he didn’t. In fact, Rhett was more in awe of them than anything, so by the time his second drink had arrived and Winona put her hand on top of his, he was the most clueless he’d ever been.

Continuing to be clueless for the next few moments, Rhett sat dumbstruck as Winona pressed closer and charmed him with tales of undressing alongside her twin sisters in their bedroom, sneaking out late to meet a man at the lake when she was young and wild, and finally, what she’d do to Rhett should she get a chance alone with him. Rhett was five mouthfuls in, sloshed just enough to forget, when Winona put her hand on his thigh and squeezed.

With a start, Rhett remembered. His eyes widened as Link came back, the absence of him, anyway, his spritely eyes and playful magic. Melancholy, Rhett rimmed the glass with his finger and let the thought of Link drift away as Winona leaned in and put her mouth on his neck. And, as any man would, or anyone lonely and eager for touch, for that matter, Rhett pressed into her. He let her flirt at him and touch him and whisper to him, card her slender, feminine fingers through his curly hair and down his bearded jaw, flutter her eyelashes, and press her sweet-smelling bosom against him.

She was doing everything right, so was Rhett, but once he emptied the last of his second glass, he stood up. He wobbled a bit, fairly drunk and slightly horny, and held out his hand to Winona. “I’ve got a… A someone.”

“Oh?” Winona blinked at him, fluffing her skirt.

“Mmm.” Rhett swayed in place. “Mine. Doesn’t know it yet.”

But Winona wasn’t listening. She’d already crossed the bar, falling into some other, less-handsome man’s lap, and honestly? Rhett didn’t care a bit. He slapped a handful of coins on the wood, tipped his invisible hat to the bartender, and staggered out without another word.

Rhett didn’t remember walking home, undressing, or getting into bed. However, he did remember the dream he’d had the morning after. I’ll try to recount it as best I can.

* * *

_Rhett and Link are on the hillside. More than half the dream has been dreamt at this point, but due to my inability to make sense of it, I’m going to skip over it. So, Rhett and Link are on the hillside._

_Although, the thing about dreams is that all the places you know never feel the same in them. This hillside is less like the hillside behind Rhett’s provincial English town and more like a hillside at the edge of the ocean, and in fact it isn’t a hillside at all, but a beach. Now it’s a hillside again. Look out. Is that the sea or the woods? Rhett doesn’t know for sure. It doesn’t matter. Be it by the water or overlooking the valley, one thing is the same: Link is sitting before him, babbling away._

_Rhett can’t figure what he’s saying. It sounds familiar and important. Link’s eyes are that excited shade of blue they turn when he’s scheming, and his hands wave about in front of him. Rhett tilts his head to get a better listen, but all his dream-self can note is the sound of Link’s voice. Just the sound of it, echoing, going on and on as his mouth moves fast, and it feels like_ ages _that Rhett sits there and stares at him, maybe an eternity, but then Link’s taking his hand._

_Link leads him through the town, or what should be the town and what is instead a ghostly resemblance with far too many people. It’s too big and too sunny, but Link’s hand is a nice pull in front of him and soon Rhett is by the river. Link begins walking along the edge of it on his tiptoes, his bare calves glowing in the sudden moonlight. He spreads out his arms and crosses one lean leg in front of the other like a delicate dancer. Dream-Rhett finds himself holding his breath. Waking-Rhett’s heart begins to pick up in his sleep._

_When Link gets to the end of the river, which is now a swamp, Link stands on the catwalk jutting out into the center of it. The sky is still dark, but the mossy-green swamp glows, alight with fireflies. A few lilies float by, frogs on them, and Rhett can feel them singing. Link spins twice and laughs, barefoot on the wood and grooving to an unknown melody. He beckons Rhett to come to him._

_Without a word of resistance, Rhett takes the catwalk to join him. The swamp scene holds as he walks, insects chirping and a warm, damp breeze. Rhett can’t feel his feet as he crosses, just his racing heart. Link keeps his eyes on him as he spins, somehow fast in place though his body warps, and when Rhett gets to him, Link stops time._

_The bullfrogs’ song takes a pause and the swamp does not breathe. Link looks at him, those eyes, powder blue and slightly terrifying, pinning him in place. He twists his body until his waist fits in Rhett’s hands. He hovers, and when Rhett looks again, time is back on._

_Link stands far from him and laughs, swirls of fireflies at his hands. They turn to lightning and suddenly he’s casting. Rhett remembers magic. He remembers conjuring and transfigurations, the formidable power of cursing, hexing. Rhett feels grateful that he knows magic simply through observation. In this moment, it scares the wits out of him._

_Said wits are whisked completely when Link throws air at him and curls around him like a black ribbon, squeezing at Rhett’s body as he slithers in X-patterns ‘round his torso, between his legs and over his chest and threateningly tight on his neck._

_A rush of wind, and Link’s back again. He’s almost too handsome in his dark clothes, bright smile. A hint of Link’s pointy teeth, then more air, back on Rhett quick and this time, squeezing him in all the right places. The strange pleasure distracts him, and a deep, anxious part of him feels he’s forgetting something. Another flash of a different dream, perhaps one inside another, and Rhett sees a spiraling ocean storm. He hears a scream, but Link is twisting between his legs._

_The ribbon crosses back up his chest and Rhett’s sure it’s a snake. It leaps from his shoulders and back into Link, and Link slithers his tongue. One more jump and the black snake scares him, coming a little too close to his heart, a little too tight on his ribs. Rhett wants to throw it off, he can’t breathe, but when it turns back into Link for a final time, he’s Rhett’s friend once more._

_Rhett is no longer scared. Link is at peace in this state, as is Rhett, both boys soft and beautiful. Link smiles a smile Rhett can read; it’s familiar. There’s no question there, and Rhett steps forward. He puts his hands out to grab at Link, there’s a sliver of something awful in Link’s face, snake-like, and then he’s leaping on Rhett and pushing him to the ground._

_The ground is hard and the fall hurts like real pain. Rhett feels it again, harder, and then he and Link are in a grove. Beneath them lies soft grass, and tall trees cove the two in. Link is straddling Rhett’s hips. Rhett’s hands have found his waist. Link leans down and for a moment, Rhett knows this is a dream. Link feels so real - so incredibly real, squirming body close, breath warm on Rhett’s neck and the weight of him heavy atop him - that Rhett knows it isn’t. Of course, this doesn’t seem to faze him as Link kisses him, and in fact only spurs Rhett on in knowing that he can kiss him back, touch Link all he wants without repercussion. A swivel of Link’s tongue, and Rhett forgoes his lucidity. He’s back in the dream, pinned beneath Link as he kisses, kisses and kisses and kisses._

_They’re in a bed. Well, it’s not so much a bed as a straw mattress with a sheet on it. They’re in a hut, somebody else’s, and the “bedroom” closes them in. Link makes a lovely sound, somewhere between a command and a whimper. Whatever it is, Rhett obeys. Link sprawls out beneath him, suddenly nude from the waist up. He peeks at him, blue eyes, dark lashes, over his bony shoulder. Rhett can’t see below his tailbone, but when he puts his hands there, he can feel Link’s bare rump. Grumbling, the sound of his own voice ties him to the moment. Rhett falls into it, his hands sweeping over Link’s form. He’s dry and perfect and smooth, sparkling in his flawlessness, and Rhett finds himself noting the dip of his spine beneath his thumb. Rhett licks his lips and rakes his fingernails down Link’s skin, dragging red scratches in their wake. He sees them on Link, but feels them on his own back. He shivers, pushing his hips flush against that foggy part beneath Link’s hips. Rhett knows what’s there, but he can’t allow himself to picture it, and is left with tangible sensation alone. This, naturally, is overwhelming._

_Link’s body is so real beneath Dream-Rhett’s hands that Waking-Rhett’s heart begins to ache. As his dream-self touches Link, he warms, heat flooding down to his cock and pulling tight behind his pelvis. His stomach flips, and Waking-Rhett groans into the dark. A stirring in his groin, and his cock awakes against the tempting curve of Dream-Link’s body. Sweat has formed under on his face, neck, and the back of his knees, and he kicks off the blankets in his sleep. Naked and still half-drunk, Rhett flips over onto his stomach, buries his face into his pillow, and unknowingly begins to grind against his bed._

_Back in dreamland, the bed beneath Link’s body rocks in time with something Rhett can’t quite explain. He’s pushing into Link, pelvis flat to Link’s rump, but he can’t bear to look down the spot they meet. He just keeps pushing, rolling his hips in a rhythm Link urges him to, and it’s so good, hot and tight and wet and -_

_Link’s on top. They’re back at the beach, tussling in the hard sand at the water’s edge. Link grinds his cock against Rhett, moaning, as the waves lap at their thighs. Rhett feels the tide rise further with every press of Link’s body, and he can’t help but blink up at him, sun cresting just behind his head. Sunlight streams from above as the shadow of Link leans down to bite at Rhett’s chest, mouthing along his clavicle. Rhett claws at the sand in lust, then with another hit of seawater, pulls Link flush against him. The weight of him presses Rhett down against the beach, and when Link rolls back up with a swivel of his hips, Rhett puts his hand between Link’s legs. He curls his fingers around the length of him and strokes. Link shudders atop him and presses into his hand. Rhett keeps him there, one arm wrapped ‘round his waist, the other tugging him slow, when the scene changes once again._

_Rhett’s subconscious tries to hold onto the moment as they find themselves at the waterfall. Link sits beside him, fully clothed, and points out at the woods. The pleasure lingers, hot below Rhett’s trousers, but he says nothing. From atop the waterfall, Rhett can see his town, somehow, smoke rising from chimneys and little colored dots of people milling about their farms. It spreads out along the mountain like a patchwork quilt, property squares its harvest patches. He and Link sit far from in it the woods, yet Rhett cannot look away. Every bit of moving life is a cog in a familiar machine, Rhett’s constant. Rhett knows this place. He is tied to this place at the heart._

_A sense of waking life peeks through, an anxiety that tastes a lot like betrayal. Link puts a hand on his thigh and turns to smile at him. Something about his face still doesn’t feel right, like this Link is in place of another. Rhett wonders where the true Link is._

_“Where are you?” His dream-self says aloud. The words are banal and his voice doesn’t sound right, but he speaks them all the same. “Where are you, Link?”_

_Link blinks at him. “I’m right here.”_

_“No.” Metallic noise, caught in his throat. “The other you.” Rhett looks past Link at the town. It buzzes with familiar energies, save Link’s. “He’s not over there…”_

_“What are you talking about?” Link’s tone is sharp and Rhett recognizes it as something painful._

_Now, at this point, Rhett’s dream splits into two memories. Rhett believes, just as much in the land of Nod as he does in waking life, that there are infinite possibilities and routes taken in parallel universes. Dreams, it seems, are no exception. He always awakes remembering multiple endings, some of which sting much worse than others._

_The first: Rhett stands atop the waterfall and continues to question where his true Link is. It’s foolish, but he’s worried. His eyes can’t stay on the Link in front of him, instead dart around the woods beyond, wishing for his return. Snake-Link tries to pull him back down, back in, but Rhett leaps from the waterfall and into the pool below, diving deep and seeking Link in the underwater kingdom beneath. There, he does not find him, instead finds a sea creature version of him, who, again, tries to bed him. He’s beautiful, just as all Links seem to be, with blue skin and a long, striped fishtail. He flashes Rhett a shark-like grin, and Rhett cannot resist. Rhett gives into the merboy, bubbles in his lungs, but thinks of his true Link all he while. He awakes on the cusp of a very wet orgasm._

_The second: Back atop the waterfall, Link has successfully calmed Rhett by putting a palm to his cheek. His eyes soften, snake fangs shrinking back into Link’s trademark smile. He puts both hands on Rhett’s hips and pulls him in for a hug. This, Rhett remembers, the specific feeling of hugging Link, where his hands go and how Link nuzzles into his shoulder. This Link does not. Rhett, though not completely convinced, allows this embrace. Link pushes against him as the sky above the woods goes pink-lavender, sounds of Rhett’s town distant. Link guides him onto his back, strong, gentle arms, and murmurs half-baked compliments as he lowers his face to Rhett’s groin. Rhett looks down at him, forgetting something, and fades into pleasure. He awakes on the cusp of a very wet orgasm._

_While both these smutty scenes linger at the edges of Rhett’s mind as he awakes, the ghost-memory of Link’s body, hands, and mouth stay with him long after._

* * *

Rhett awoke, naked and sweaty. He was flushed from head to toe and damp against the sheets. He’d overslept, morning sun beaming through his window. Warm couldn’t begin to describe the heat under his skin, in his belly and groin. Rhett had never felt so fully _hot_ , body and mind. Grunting, he wiped his hands on his equally steamy sheets and scrubbed his face. Scratching at is beard in his half-asleep state, he rolled over, shifting his pelvis in the process. With another flood of heat, his cock perked up again, right where he’d left off. Sighing, Rhett was left to reach a hand down under the sheets and tug himself to release.

It didn’t take very long, Link’s body and all its compromising positions drifting through his head and into his hand. Rhett chased the lasting dreams and (wait, was he a _merman_?) tightened his fist like he remembered Link contracting around him. When he finished, he was still somewhat hard, so he groaned again and rolled back the other way. Rhett took a moment to breathe calm before getting his hand back on himself and letting his mind wander as he touched himself slowly, a gentle pull to keep him at bay.

If there was one thing this week without Link had told him, it was that Rhett couldn’t very well do without him. He could get on fine, but Link had become such a constant in his life that the lack of him gave him wild dreams to make up for the fact. He couldn’t escape it - the dreams, the thoughts, the fantasies - and as he realized now, he didn’t want to. He was always thinking of Link, and now, these thoughts pushed him into what he needed. In this waking moment, they’d overwhelmed him to the point of knowing exactly what he wanted to do the moment Link came back (fuck him raw, pardon my French), and exactly what he needed to admit to himself before he did anything else.

Through it all, from the fight to his father’s obvious advice and now, these lusty dreams, Rhett hadn’t actually said it to himself. It. That thing. That thing he needed to say.

He rolled onto his back and avoided all the stickiness in his bed. He threw his arms over his face and breathed, trying not to dwell any longer. He was always comparing, trying to find meaning and cast things grander than they were. This… It wasn’t a dream, a fantasy - it was real. What he felt wasn’t going to doom him to the same fate as his father’s friend, Jonas, and it certainly wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

He sat up in bed, bare in the morning light. A breeze came through the attic window and Rhett looked out at the woods. It shouldn’t have taken him two drinks, a wet dream, and a slight hangover to figure this, but… All he could do now was admit it.

…

Rhett McLaughlin, son of Oliver and Diana, was completely, enchantingly, _hauntingly_ in love with his best friend, Sorcerer Link of the Woods. Yes, he was wholly in love with Link. He was…

Rhett swallowed, heart fluttering. He was in love with Link.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything was light again.

In the last few days before Link returned, Rhett threw himself into his work. He did like a good farmboy should and rose with the sun, speaking nary a word to anyone but his livestock ’til the sun went down. Rhett checked on the crops he’d been neglecting to and visited all his animals, telling them about Link as he brushed their coats, soon figuring it best not to talk about it and deciding to sing to them instead. With every stroke through his sheep’s wool, he sang, a soft tune which had them bleating in comfort by the final note. He rinsed the mud from his pigs and scratched behind their ears, said hello to his chickens and plucked their eggs with a congratulatory smile. He moved onto the pasture, cutting wheat with his scythe and feeling not so unlike the Angel of Death himself. As he worked, the familiar tightness in his joints returned, and when he’d finished, he’d broken out in a sweat. It felt good to work his body, and Rhett chased the exertion. He did the laundry and cleaned the kitchen again, eventually growing restless and seeking to organize the barn. Busying himself as much as he could seemed to be the best way to keep Link off his mind, and by the end of the last day without him, Rhett had wondered how he’d ever had the time for Link in the first place.

His father knew what Rhett was doing and left him to it. Hell, a thousand more boys could break Rhett’s heart if it meant the tools in the shed would get polished. He teased, no, Oliver didn’t think Rhett had a broken heart, just a bruised one. His confidence was shaken, and Oliver allowed him the time before Link showed up again (as he knew he would) to grieve and consequently flip the farm’s profit tenfold. By the time Rhett joined him for dinner, he was exhausted. His father slid him a bowl of creamed wheat and said nothing as he snarfed it down, finally an appetite.

Rhett was too sore to dream that night, and when he woke, he blinked once then set about his chores. His bones hurt, but it was a welcome change to his ego, and he wasted no time in stepping out into the still-dark morning to tend his farm. Small, sleepy town, no sound but the chirp of morning birds, no light save for that cresting the mountains, taking the sky from gray to orange. It could have been sunset, setting night over the quiet district, but the day had not yet begun and nobody but Rhett was out. Alone, he trudged across his farm in his enchanted boots. He was in the field, uncoiling a rope from the fencepost, when he felt Link appear.

It was a rush of air and a presence, like the very first time. The hairs at the back of Rhett’s neck prickled and his stomach went tight. He crushed the rope in his fists and took a deep breath through his nose. He was angry again, just by the feel of Link behind him, and when he finally turned, he didn’t know what his face was doing. He must have been scowling, as Link blanched and lowered his eyes. Rhett stared at him.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Rhett didn’t feel the urge to run to him or yell at him, in fact he almost wished Link hadn’t come at all. All the same, he was here now, standing awkwardly outside the borders of Rhett’s field, unsure whether or not he was allowed in. Rhett kept his eyes on him and studied his guilty countenance before his heart softened. He could never stay mad at Link, not with him looking like that. Rhett swallowed dryly and looped the rope over the fence. He turned to lean against it and crossed his arms. Never taking his eyes off Link, as if looking away might lose him again, Rhett pressed his lips together. “You’re back.”

Broad shoulders lowered, tension falling. “I’m back.”

Rhett cocked his head. “Where did you go?”

“Around.” Link stepped closer and put his hands on the fence. Rhett could feel the touch through the wood as they stood at either side. Looking at Link, at his frowning mouth and downcast eyes, Rhett kept his arms locked tight over his chest in to resist the urge to pull Link into them. Link swiped his hand over the grain in the plank and Rhett furrowed his brows.

“If you came back just to be cryptic, Link, you can go ahead and lea-“

Link interrupted him, “I didn’t find her.” He held Rhett’s gaze and matched his grimace. “I looked everywhere. I chased her trail, I went back home and asked people she once knew, I did everything.”

There was pain in his voice, like Rhett’s father’s when he told of Jonas, or Rhett’s when he talked about Link. Rhett stepped outside himself - this self, who loved Link and wanted him to apologize for leaving, this selfish self who wanted to grab Link by his collar, yank him over the fence, and smooch him hard for the week he’d gone without him - and listened like Link needed him to. Rhett nodded, loosening his own pain. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it.

Link picked at the wood with a fingernail and swallowed, goozle bobbing. “It’s not your fault. It’s not even mine.” Link looked up, red-rimmed, tired eyes, the eyes of a boy who missed his mother.

Rhett knew those eyes. He had those eyes. “How was it going back home?”

“Weird. I thought more people would notice after six years, but nobody did. Town’s changed a lot, not too many magical people live there anymore.” Link was leaning fully on the fence now, elbows on the wood. He sighed, hanging his head. Rhett noted the dip between his shoulders. He wanted to put his hand there. Instead, he settled for his voice.

“Hey.” It was soft, tender with the weight of his love. “You don’t have to talk about it. You’re here now.”

Link raised his head, dark hair falling into his eyes. He brushed his bangs to the side and smiled, a watery, slightly broken smile, but a smile all the same. “Yeah. I’m here now.”

Rhett swiveled to face Link from the other side of the fence, and he was about to say something comforting when his morals acted for him. He leapt over the fence, and Link only had a moment of surprise before Rhett was taking him in his arms and pulling him so flush against him he could feel the dip in his spine. Rhett closed his eyes and buried his face in Link’s neck, tightening his arms ’til he could feel the last of the hurt in Link’s lungs gasp against his ribs. Link grabbed back, fisting Rhett’s tunic and pushing hard into his hold, both of them swaying. Wordlessly, Rhett told Link all he’d wanted to, how much he missed him and how sorry he was for everything. Link nuzzled back, and Rhett went warm knowing he was sorry, too. When they finally broke, Rhett kept a hand on Link’s shoulder. He blinked into the sunrise, Link aglow before him. Link was back. Everything was light again.

“This goes without saying,” he started, “but I really missed you.”

A gentle punch to the arm, playful. “I missed you more.”

Rhett cupped Link’s cheek, traced his thumb against the corner of his mouth, and watched Link’s eyelashes flutter in pleasure. Rhett took his hand back, but the touch lingered. “You left me here with my father.”

“He’s not so bad.”

“He told me a story. It made me realize things.”

Hopping up onto the fence, Link bounced his knees. “Realize things?” he teased. “I get that. I met someone, an old friend of my mother's. He told me all about her, stuff I didn’t even know about her past life. Apparently, she was a very powerful sorceress.”

Now that things were good again, Rhett couldn’t stop touching him, so he put a hand on Link’s knee. “I can imagine so, knowing you.”

Preening under the touch, Link sat up a little straighter and stretched. He puffed his chest out, splayed his arms, and made a little sound that went straight to Rhett’s groin. Rhett licked his lips in remembering his lusty dreams, then took his hand off Link’s knee.

Link fluffed his hair and smiled. “What are you doing right now?” he asked.

Rhett glanced back at the field, which was now alight with bright morning sun. He heard the sleepy chickens rouse and spotted the shadow of his father disappear into the toolshed. “Working. I still have some stuff to do.” That was a lie, Rhett had done everything there was to do the moment Link left him. He said this anyway, as he didn’t quite feel ready to elope back into the woods with Link, and by the gleam in Link’s eye, that’s what he wanted to do.

“You want to stop by later? I’ll apologize for beating you up, if you do.”

Rhett laughed, the first real laugh in a while. “No, I’ll apologize for beating _you_ up.”

Feigning consideration, Link narrowed his eyes. “We could say it was a tie, that we both got roughed up.”

“It was an intense fight.”

Link agreed it was, scoped Rhett head to toe, and bit his bottom lip. He held Rhett’s gaze as his plump lip popped out from under his teeth, then leapt down from the fence, sultry look gone. “Anyway. Get back to work. I’ll see you later?”

A bird cawed loudly in the distance. Rhett looked at Link. “Sure.”

Squeezing his bicep, Link gave one final smirk. “You know where to find me.” He then turned and left, leaving Rhett to watch him go, eyes on his rump.

* * *

As he’d promised, Rhett sought Link out later that day. Once his nerves had settled, he was ready to see his friend again, so just before dinner, Rhett grabbed a loaf of bread to munch on the way and set off for the woods. The sun hadn’t yet set, so Rhett took the last sunlight to remember the forest path he’d come to know and felt a sense of peace as soon as he came upon the clearing and Link’s mossy, lumpy cottage.

He rounded a familiar tree and felt the spirits welcome him as he stepped into the grove. He recalled the first time he’d stumbled through the woods and found this place, and the shimmering rabbit that lead his way. Link had only been a ghost then, and Rhett himself on the brink of adventure, yet here he was, back at it and this time, sure that something wonderful lay ahead.

A shuffle of branches, and Rhett looked up at one of the trees looming over Link’s cottage. He found Link perched on a branch like an owl, equally wide-eyed and hooting as Rhett smiled up at him. With his usual impish flair, Link leapt deftly from the branch onto the roof of his cottage, and from there climbed down to meet Rhett. Watching him as he did so, Rhett felt a rush of happiness at knowing this was real, knowing Link was his once again. As Link brushed his hands on his trousers and came to greet him, Rhett longed to get Link alone, spend as much time with him as he could inside his sorcerer’s cove. Rhett crossed to meet him in front of the round cottage door, voicing his memory. “Remember when I first showed up here?”

Carding his fingers through his hair, Link smiled. His eyebrows went up high on his forehead and he pursed his lips before he spoke, leaving Rhett to study all the movement in his face like it’d been too long since seeing him in person. Playful curiosity in Link’s eyes as he replied, “I do. You were all nervous.”

Link opened the cottage door and let Rhett inside as Rhett found himself asking, “What did you first think of me?” He’d wanted to know since the day they’d met, always too shy to ask.

He closed the door behind him and Rhett was immediately remedied by the smell of potato soup. Trailing a gentle hand around Rhett’s shoulders as he moved to stand before him, Link said, “I thought you were scared and lost, wandered too far from home like a dog.”

Rhett snorted. “Thanks.”

“But there was also something endearing about you.” Link leaned against the dining table and, once again, scoped Rhett head to toe. “The way you talked to the spirits, for one. And your face.”

“My face?” Rhett asked, blood rushing to his cheeks.

Link nodded, serious. “Handsome. Couldn’t let you get away.”

Rhett blushed even deeper, heat flooding through him and twisting his stomach. Link wasn’t making this any easier, his words doing little in keeping Rhett from assuming Link had feelings to match. It also didn’t help that Link stretched lean where he stood, tricky strip of bare waist drawing Rhett’s attention, as per usual. He tried to chuckle through his obvious reaction, heated. “Well, thanks Link, you’re quite handsome yourself.”

Link shimmied his hips, a little wiggle, brightness in his voice. “I know.”

He kept his eyes on Rhett as Rhett glanced away, bashful, and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked over Link’s head at the cottage, which was cleaner than he’d seen it in a while. He wondered if Link had come back early and, like him, channeled his restless energy into cleaning. Rhett was about to comment on it, tell Link the place looked good, when Link cut him off.

“What else did you think about me?”

“What?”

“When you first met me, what else did you think?” Link pressed, stepping a little closer into Rhett’s space, so close Rhett could feel his aura. Today, it was golden, like the early sun.

In contrast, Rhett was the shy-faced moon, stars in his eyes as he confessed. “I thought you were different from everyone I’d met. Nobody in my town is like you.”

Link rounded the dining table and took up his stool, beckoning Rhett to take his seat adjacent. When he did, Link immediately sparked the incense stick that sat between them with a snap and a lavender smoke began to curl into the space. Rhett breathed it in and his head went a little fuzzy, peeking at Link from across the table as he danced the smoke on his knuckles. “This is true,” Link said. “Nobody in your town is like me. What else?”

Rhett didn’t know what Link was trying to get him to say, but considering they’d gone too long without each other, Rhett amused his flirty forest-boy. “Thought you were cocky, still do. Thought you probably could have been a little nicer to the lost dog you found in the woods, but eventually you let him inside, so it’s fine.”

“No.” Link tapped the stone with his fingers, impatient. “What did you think when you first _saw_ me? What did you think of my outward appearance?”

“Link-“

“Tell me.”

A quiet moment when between them as Rhett held Link’s challenging stare. Did Link really want Rhett to gush over him right now? Was he poking fun at him? Or was he just that curious? Regardless, Rhett figured he owed Link as close to the truth as he could manage, so he scratched his beard and took a breath. “Link, when I first saw you, I thought I’d never seen anyone who looked like you. Nobody, not a single person, in any illustration or painting, looked like you. You were…” Link licked his lips, expectant. Rhett gave him what he wanted. “You were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. I lost my breath when I first met your eyes.”

Link fell quiet. He pressed his lips into a tight seam and leaned back on his seat. Rhett caught his thin brows quirking. “Good,” he said.

“Good?”

“Want some soup?” Link stood from the table and moved coolly to the fireplace, ladling soup into a wooden bowl before Rhett could even blink. He brought it back, set it before Rhett like a husband serving a hot meal, and sat back down. “I made it myself.”

Still curious, Rhett said nothing and took the bowl. He blew the steam off the top and took a sip, as Link hadn’t given him a spoon. It was good, better than the thin soup he used to make. Rhett munched down on a meat chunk and made a contented hum. “It’s good, thanks.” He set the bowl down, and tension prickled between them.

The sun, which had risen with Link’s return, now began to set. As the cottage darkened, the crystals on twine Link had strung along the corners of the room began to glow faintly like fairy lights, dusk giving way to night. Link waved his hand and they sang, pulsing out a steady melody low enough to talk over, pleasant enough to fall asleep to. Ablaze in rhythm with the crystal song, the fire under the soup burned at a low simmer, and the unlit candles around the place had apparently sparked to life when Rhett wasn’t looking. Link had grown so much in his training that his powers were now indiscernible, easy manipulation of the scene around him. Rhett was sure he could strip his clothes off with just a look, and in the soft candlelight, he almost wanted him to. _God,_ he was insatiable.

He couldn’t blame himself, though, with Link looking like that. Across the table, Link had one leg up on the stool, hugging his knee. His black shirt was open at the collar, string ties crossing loose over his chest, revealing the impossible stretch of his sharp collarbones. Link swallowed tight and his neck flexed, tempting. Rhett looked at him, comfortable sitting here with Link, but knowing he’d feel better without this blasted table between them. In fact, if Rhett could have his way, he’d flip the large stone table, potato soup be damned, and crowd up on Link, make him sit still as he straddled his hips and kissed him for all the time he missed him, take his face in his hands and make him hold the gaze as he tells him he’s never lied, not once, that Link really did rock his world that fateful day. Rhett’s eyes glazed over as he thought about Link bending for him, letting Rhett lick into his mouth and touch him all he wanted, finally getting a hand down those tight black trousers and-

“What are you thinking about?”

Caught, Rhett lied. “Wondering what you did the week you were away.”

Link lowered his knee and leaned forward on the table. “Not as much as I hoped I would. Travel by foot is exhausting.”

“You didn’t find anyone to give you a ride?”

“Would you want to help a barefoot kid on the side of the road, hungry and bitter with a grown-out beard, trudging alone, only a rucksack to his name?”

Rhett blinked. _If it was you, then yes._ “People usually only ever stop for whores.”

Link reached for Rhett’s soup. “If only I’d been one, then.” He took a generous sip, and if Rhett hadn’t been watching him so closely, he wouldn’t have seen that Link turned the bowl to sip from the same spot Rhett had. It made his cock twitch.

“Honestly,” Rhett asked then, watching Link eat, “what did you find?”

“Roadside peasants, mostly. Nobody had much information about my mother, even those people I could recognize from years ago. It’s like she just up and disappeared completely.”

Rhett remembered that Link had mentioned an old friend. “What about that one guy you talked to? What was he like?”

“He was wise, but rather unhelpful. I had to hike up the mountain behind my town to get to him. As with most sorcerers, including myself, he lived alone in the woods. It’d be impossible to track him down if you didn’t know where to find him. The Great Powers must have told him I was coming ‘cause he was ready for me when I got there. Meeting him made me think of you, actually, since he looked like a wizard plucked from a book, long white beard and everything. He knew I was looking for my mother and told me all about her, and of course, had no information about her current whereabouts.” Link sighed and pulled his knee back up. “I can’t feel her on the spiritual plane anymore. I think she’s gone for real.”

Rhett reached across the table, and Link immediately took his hand. He didn’t say anything else, and Link gave him a grateful smile. He rubbed his thumb over Rhett’s knuckles, and Rhett’s whole body went warm. Link didn’t let go as he continued.

“He told me what she was like, though, at least the side of her I didn’t know. He told me she’d been on the run from a young age, always getting herself in trouble for dabbling in dark magic. She told me a little about the spells she practiced as a kid, but the wizard told me that she was the brightest sorceress in the whole province, too powerful for her age, and got noticed for it. Magical people…” He traced the bone of Rhett’s finger, bringing his other hand up to play with the hair on Rhett’s arm. Rhett let him, listening patiently. “We have a way of tracing people, especially those who practice spells outside their skills. It’s like every magical person can sense it when they see you, they know you’ve touched the darkness. I guess my mother hadn’t just touched it, she claimed it.”

Rhett brought his other hand out for Link to play with, which he did. “She wasn’t… evil, was she?”

“No, I don’t think so, but I don’t think she was innocent, either. He asked me if I knew why we moved out here in the first place, then told me it was because dark sorcerers were following her. She knew something she shouldn’t have, and she had to lose the trace. I guess she couldn’t, even then, and that’s why she left me.”

Rhett turned his palms up for Link to tug on his fingers, trace his wrinkles like a palm reader. It was comfortably intimate. “She did it to protect you.”

“I wish she’d told me. I would have understood.” Link lowered his eyes, and Rhett recognized the look. Link was more like his mother than he let on, as he was with his own. Link had her curiosity, her thirst for darkness that coursed through his magical blood. He missed her, and Rhett did too. He wondered what she was like, how awesome her powers must have been, considering Link’s.

“What was she like, when you knew her?” Rhett asked. With a start, he realized he’d never learned her name. “And her name?”

“Felicity. Her name was Felicity.” Link laced his fingers with Rhett’s, both hands, and Rhett’s breath hitched. The moment was bittersweet, Link touching Rhett for support while talking of his mother in past tense as if he was finally brave enough to. Rhett didn’t know if she was lost or dead, but it didn’t matter. She was out of Link’s life for real now, and he had never looked so lonely.

He cleared his throat and continued, “She was my mother and my best friend. She was the only other person in my life. She taught me everything I know, all about karma and the spirits, how to carry myself and live with the magic within me. She showed me to breathe and dream, connect with my ancestors and appreciate nature in its purest form. She told me to always be brave, keep my heart open, and chase what I want.” Link looked straight at Rhett, and suddenly Rhett was keenly aware they were holding hands. Link went on, “I know she would want me to follow my heart and take risks, be open to the possibility that I might need someone else.” He gave Rhett a final squeeze and released him. He withdrew his hands and tucked them between his legs, hunched as if he was shivering.

“I remember her telling stories of getting into trouble. I guess I just didn’t realize what sort of trouble it’d lead to.”Looking up at Rhett, he said, “Your mother sang, yes? Mine drew. She would lounge about the house for weeks at a time, just sketching. I know now that must have been her laying low, but the talent was all there. Charcoal figures, oil paintings, landscapes, and her magic, God… I have never seen anything as breathtaking. Well, save my mother herself. She was so beautiful,” he gave a small smile, “always draped in the finest shawls, at least three necklaces at once, mixing up a potions or writing a book…” Link furrowed his brows, serious again. “She wasn’t a bad person. She was an angel. I don’t know what sort of dark magic she got mixed up with, but I’m sorry all the same.” He blinked, holding back tears. Taking a breath and closing his eyes, Link said, “Mama, wherever you are, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” A moment of quiet, and Link retreated back into himself, seemingly done with talking about it.

Rhett swallowed, mouth dry. There was so much about this part of Link’s history Rhett hadn’t known, and he was dumbstruck. Link was an incredible son. How he could so bravely accept his mother’s loss now when he’d been so stubborn and withdrawn before, how he could speak of her honestly with a straight face and even, heavens! Apologize to her for her own life choices?

Sitting before Rhett, vulnerable as ever, Link had opened up more than he ever had. Rhett could see as he spoke, spilling his heart, that Link was a living tribute to Felicity. He was her son, her magic prodigy, just as wild and dark as her, with the same unbridled honor. Yes, that’s what it was. Link was honorable. He couldn’t see that his mother never meant for him to get messed up in it, and yet here he was, apologizing to _her._

Rhett didn’t know how to convey this to Link. He shifted, looked at him, and started, “None of this was your fault, Link. Just as my mother catching the plague isn’t mine. Your mother’s history… that weight shouldn’t fall on you. From what you tell me, I can see so much of her in you, simply: her beauty, her lust for life, and yours. But Link, you are your own person. You make your own choices, as did she. I don’t know much for certain, hey, look at me, I don’t know much, but I do know she loved you. She would never have wanted you to limit yourself in any way. I’ve told you once before, you are a powerful sorcerer. You are passionate in your craft, and it shows. You’re young, got your whole life to explore your magic, but you’re already so talented, even I can see that. You’re incredible, you’ve got such a brave heart, Link, and _ugh-_ “ Rhett was overcome with adoration. He scrubbed a hand down his face, “Link, you aren’t a good person.” He gulped, holding Link’s gaze, “You are an _extraordinary_ person.”

The cottage fell quiet. Link blinked, stretched out on his seat, and put his hands on the table. He looked at Rhett, something soft and thankful in his face, then said, “Do you want to stay overnight?”

Quick as flame, Rhett went hot. He squeezed his thighs together, cursing his seemingly undiscovered libido for ruining a gentle moment yet again. Rhett cleared his throat, but his voice was still gruff when he said, “Yeah.”

* * *

Throughout the night, the boys continued to eat and laugh and talk. They wanted it to be light, so they kept it that way, not mentioning what hurt them, teasing each other under Link’s glowing gems. Rhett had left his guitar at Link’s the week he was away, so Link brought it to him and urged him to play something in tune with the crystal song. Still hazy in lavender smoke, the two took the living space to spend much needed time together, eventually moving into Link’s bedroom where, unhelpfully for Rhett, Link was even softer.

Rhett liked Link’s bedroom, but he liked it even more in this moment now that Link had organized, made as much space as he could, and, given the unnatural breeze, most likely enchanted it to feel anything but stuffy. The beaded doorway rattled after Link asked the spirits to keep them safe for the night, then he flopped back on his bed and wrapped himself up in a fur blanket. He hid there for a moment, quiet, as Rhett went to sit on the bed beside him. When Link emerged, he was flushed and fluffy, looking playfully young and worn out all at once. Link crawled out of his wrap, and Rhett pet his hair back in place.

For a while, it was almost like they’d forgotten Link knew magic. In his cove, they were just two friends hiding out, making jokes, sharing books. It was only when Rhett began spinning stories about the stars, forever in love with astronomy, did Link sit up in bed and conjure light at his palms. He looked up at his low ceiling, held his glowing hands high, and swept motions through the air as if polishing the stone. Rhett watched, amazed, as the streaks of Link’s magic fell like paint, brushstrokes of glitter settling on the ceiling, and when Rhett looked again, they were silver stars. Link continued to move his hands as the night bled to all corners, coating the ceiling in navy and twinkling down at them as real as the galaxies beyond.

Thoroughly amazed at his sorcery, Rhett tackled Link down on the bed and threw him ‘round ’til he was wiggling and making Rhett’s favorite sound, laughter. Rhett felt him squirm as he pinned him, and he couldn’t help but bury his face in Link’s neck, suddenly overcome with joy. He pressed a small kiss to Link’s cheek and immediately pulled back, laying back beside him under the false starlight.

Link said nothing, only sighed, rise and fall of his chest. Rhett sighed to match and kept his eyes on the stars. There were too many of them, glittering and swirling like stars don’t, and for that, it was beautiful. Link’s magic always surprised him, as most of it was purely creative. He’d never known Link to cast a spell to earn a selfish reward, manipulate people like Link once told Rhett he couldn’t. Rhett wondered now if he had the capacity to, after knowing him, after having his heart. Link seemed fairly clueless of the hold he had on Rhett, though, and instead only used his magic to help himself in small ways and cast art and beauty upon the world. Regardless, whatever came out was always unique to Link, and as Rhett looked over at him now, he caught a shooting star in the shine of his eyes, stardust on his lashes. Rhett lost his breath.

Link picked it up for him, taking another sigh. Rhett’s eyelashes fluttered as he stared on, admiring Link’s soft, quiet lips and lounging body. He was at peace now, here with Rhett, even as Rhett knew he held so much power within. Strength in the face of grief, and a magic unlike any other. Rhett licked his lips. In his eyes, Link was a masterpiece.

Slowly, a smile. “Stop staring at me.”

Rhett didn’t look away. “Sorry.”

The grin spread wider and Link turned to him, catching his guilty eyes. “Go away.”

Rhett started to get up. “Okay.”

Link grabbed his arm and tugged him back. “No, stay.” He smiled into Rhett’s face again, something playful, and didn’t release his arm.

Wanting Link to tangle his fingers with his again, Rhett tucked his free arm under his head and let Link loosely hold the other. He turned to look at Link, but Link was admiring the stars. With his best friend absentmindedly stroking his arm with his thumb, Rhett asked Link about his dreams.

“Aspirations or apparitions?”

“When you sleep,” Rhett clarified, “what do you dream about?”

Thin brows furrowed. “Lots of stuff. Mostly magic I can’t yet claim.”

“Like what?”

“Certain potions, spells out of reach. Usually, once a sorcerer masters potions, he can use his cauldron as a holding pot for memories. Casting visuals to memories, too, making things appear real. Sometimes I dream of dark magic, mixing a deadly potion or using a hex to dominate someone. That sort of stuff.”

Rhett listened respectfully, but he didn’t quite believe him. “Anything else?”

“What’s this now, an interrogation?”

“I’m curious.”

Link was quiet.

Rhett spoke again. “Any recurring nightmares?”

Link slipped his hand down Rhett’s arm and looped a finger ‘round his thumb, lightest touch. “One. It’s painful, but it’s not my pain. There’s a family, lots of children and two parents, and they’ve got all these traditions and plans. They’re happy, the real kind, and everyone’s got places to go and people to see. Then, and this happens every time, the children get picked off one by one. There’s a surge of darkness, like a swipe, and one of the family is gone. Before the rest of the family can grieve, another one is lost. She leaves of her own accord, and it stings, but then it gets worse. The others get taken, killed, or lost, and at the end, the parents are left with nothing. It’s the same family every time, though they never have faces. Only the tragedies change. I never know how they’ll go, but throughout the whole dream, I’ve got a sinking feeling, a knowing that they’ll end up alone in the end.”

Rhett nudged his hip with his closest finger. “I’m sorry.”

Link turned to him, bittersweet smile, slightly humorous. “You’ve said that many times today.”

“Well, you’ve given me reason to.” Rhett continued before Link could counter him, “You deserve rest. Maybe tomorrow will be better.”

Releasing Rhett, Link flipped onto his side and tucked his hands under his head. Rhett stayed on his back, but met his eyes, so close Rhett could see only a sliver of blue against blown-out pupils. Droopy, Link looked tired, and Rhett knew he was.

“Tomorrow,” Link said, “let’s do something fun.”

Rhett replied, “Sure thing, bo,” and with that promise, Link drifted peacefully into a long-awaited sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with the entirety of this fic, this chapter was fully fueled by these two flirty boys doing what they want. They keep making it gayer than anticipated, grabbing for each other and complimenting each other without my approval. Honestly, I can't control them at this point, so I guess we’ll just have to see how the final two chapters play out… Here’s hoping ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett chased Link through the woods, two free spirits.

When Rhett awoke that fateful woodland morning, he felt like he’d known Link for a year. In truth, it’d been a little over a month since he first stumbled into Link’s woods, but being with him now after being apart felt like all the seasons had already whisked between them.

Link was familiar and present, his scent enveloping Rhett as he blinked awake in Link’s bedroom. The weight of him slept peacefully beside Rhett, and, like so many times before, Rhett was calm in his presence. The starry night on Link’s ceiling had faded, and with it, came the soft silver light of morning.

Rhett lay on his back, Link breathing quietly beside him. He took the moment to look over at Link, heart glowing with fondness at the scene of his face in sleep. Turning back to the ceiling, Rhett wondered what it would feel like if he had known Link for a year.

He’d know the full spectrum of his powers, or at least what Link chose to share with him. He’d have spent ten times as many days with Link as he had now, seeing and knowing more of him than he ever had. They’d have more memories, and more room for mistakes. Perhaps, in this fantasy year, Rhett would have seen more of Link’s anger, gotten into more fights. Or, it could be that Link in autumn was an even more beautiful sight than Link in summer, as the orange and brown leaves caught the mahogany tones of his hair, and the scent of harvest blend home-brewed stew filled his cottage. Winter would bring snow and cold, and perhaps Rhett would have found that December takes Link’s impish side and leaves him like a puppet off strings, fixing potions by himself.

The thought of Link braving winter alone was haunting, but Rhett supposed that was the way it’d always been for Link, at least before Rhett came around. With a start, Rhett realized he and Link would now face the coming seasons together, and that, if Rhett’s dreams came true, things would be different between them come Christmas. It was a thrilling thought, even moreso as Rhett finally felt ready. For what, he wasn’t sure, but if something were to happen with Link soon, he knew he wouldn’t be afraid. This time, he’d fight for it.

Link roused next to him and flipped, crossing his arm over Rhett’s chest and slotting his leg atop Rhett’s thigh. On instinct, Rhett’s body flared with warmth, heartbeat fluttering. Link let out a sleepy breath, and Rhett sighed to match. It was a few very still moments, Rhett wishing on his brave little heart to pull through, before Link awoke.

When he did, his eyes had never been so blue. He blinked, focused on Rhett’s face (more, his neck and beard) and did not withdraw his limbs. Instead, he smacked his mouth like a child and said, “Hungry.” Link nuzzled into Rhett’s shoulder, and Rhett couldn’t help the small sound that rose in the back of his throat. Link smiled at it, a smile Rhett couldn’t see.

Rhett swallowed, Link’s fingertips curling against his breastbone. “Breakfast. What do you want?”

Link shifted his leg, brushing closer to Rhett’s groin. He prayed Link not to notice as Link responded, “Eggs, potatoes, porridge, and tea.”

“Alright.”

“And after that,” Link continued, giving Rhett a single squeeze, “let’s have a picnic.” Link released him, unfurling like some sort of squid, and sat up. His hair was mussed from sleep, and if Rhett could have his way, he’d have smoothed it down for him. Link blinked at him, waiting, and Rhett figured he owed his heart a bit of bravery, so he followed Link in sitting up, reached forward, and swept Link’s bangs out of his face.

“Wanna see your face,” Rhett murmured before he could catch his mouth.

Link flushed a pretty shade of pink and squeezed Rhett’s thigh. He rose from bed and set about fixing the hair at the back of his head, swaying out of the bedroom dreamily. Rhett watched him for a moment, eyes on the space between his thighs, then followed, puppy in love.

* * *

After breakfast, Rhett promised Link a picnic. Link understood that they’d need to stop by the farm for Rhett to complete his morning work (and perhaps feast on second breakfast) before heading into town. Rhett was already formulating romantic surprises by the time Link put their plates in the sink and tugged him out the door.

The walk back to Rhett’s cottage was less like a walk and more like a moment in time for the two boys to catch their breath. It seemed that both Rhett and Link felt that something was soon to happen. Rhett felt the tension, but remained nonetheless clueless, and it took Link lacing his fingers through Rhett’s for Rhett to figure that yes, something between them had definitely changed. Link held his hand all the way through the woods, releasing him as Rhett’s farm came into view. Rhett’s flexed his fingers, empty without Link.

Rhett told Link to keep himself busy as he did his chores, but Link ended up trailing him like a shadow as he went about the farm. Rhett fed the animals with Link silent all the while, every now and then offering some unnecessary compliment just to make Rhett blush. His father moseyed about the farm as well, eyeing them and coming to his own conclusions, and less tasteful ones, at that.

Oliver played innocent as Rhett whisked through the cottage and up to his attic to change, leaving Link to sip tea in comfortable silence at the table as he waited for him. Rhett pulled on a fresh tunic and slightly-less-muddy trousers, crunched his curls to his liking and smoothed out his beard, then returned to Link. When he stepped from the base of the stairs, Link was looking at him in a way Rhett could not misread, another clue into what was yet to come. Oliver glanced between them and smirked.

Splashing some water on his face for good measure, Rhett collected a basket and blanket, a satchel of coins, and Link, and left the cottage bidding his father goodbye. Oliver raised a hand and went back to his scroll.

Link remained eerily silent until they were down by June’s house, at which he must have sensed her lingering feelings for Rhett and perked up. At the tone in his voice, Rhett would have sworn Link was jealous.

“You ever have a girlfriend?” he asked, mimicking what Rhett had asked him by the river, all those weeks ago. Now, the subtext was heavy.

This time, Rhett was ready for it. “Why do you ask?”

Link glanced at June’s cottage (how did he _know_?) and shrugged. “Small town, figured someone must have fallen for you.”

Rhett caught something in Link’s eye. “Could be. Wouldn’t call myself a casanova, though.”

They continued down the dirt path as the sun rose ever higher, Rhett’s neighbors flitting about their yards, glancing at the two as they traveled, walking so close they brushed against each other at every step. Rhett met their eyes, proud, and put his hand on the small of Link’s back. He leaned down and brushed his mouth against Link’s ear, “I don’t think anyone’s ever really fallen for me.”

Link looked up at him, something sinful in his grin. “Don’t be so sure.”

Rhett smiled and plucked at the black fabric on Link’s hip. He slipped a hand over that hip, just for a moment, as Link weaved in front of him and continued on towards the village square. It was a chase of sorts, lingering touches and pressing close whenever the chance. Teasing him, Link bounced along ahead as the square came into view, shops and merchant carts as they always were.

It was late morning now, a little past noon, and, to Rhett’s surprise, the town was still partly sleepy. It could have been the hazy gray overhead, or that everyone had taken the end of the week to drink themselves to death, but either way, as Rhett and Link crossed the square, it was almost deserted. A mother in a bonnet flitted about buying eggs, some of which no doubt came from Rhett’s chickens, and a burly worker crossed in front of them carrying beams of wood. Merchants stood lazy behind their carts, and Rhett noticed that even the usual beggar in the alleyway was nodding off, chin hitting his chest. Rhett hoped he hadn’t decided to take Link into town on a terribly boring day, but before he could worry, the sorcerer piped up.

“It’s nice when there’s not so many people. Quiet little village.” He bumped into Rhett and gestured towards the center. “You can hear the fountain.”

Rhett tuned his ears and found that Link was right. Water trickling faintly over granite, and a stillness Rhett hadn’t heard in a while. He listened a moment longer and caught something else, faint laughter from an unfamiliar building. Rhett had rarely felt life there, but now, a lit candle glowed through its frosted window.

“What is that?” Link asked.

Another round of noise, this time, applause. Rhett blinked. “The theatre.”

It was a small extension off the pub, down low and hidden in the shadows, part of it expanding underground. The single window at front was always dark and lifeless, and only a few times in his life had players ever come to town, his own neighbors certainly not the acting type. Curiously, the candle glowed, a buzz of life on the inside, and Link was already on his way when Rhett looked again.

Rhett chased after Link and stilled him, guiding him by a hand on his shoulder to the flower cart. The flower girl recognized Link, eyes wide at his unusual attire. This time, Rhett hadn’t replaced Link’s sorcerer’s garb with peasant clothes, and instead wanted him as wonderfully unique as he’d ever been, ghosting about the town with him, a strange black cat.

The girl smiled sweetly as Rhett took a coin from his satchel and dropped it in her hand. He picked a large white daisy and, without a fleck of shame, reached to tuck it behind Link’s ear. Then, before Link could blink, he slipped his fingers through the feathered wings of his hair and leaned to kiss his cheek. He lingered, soft lips, long enough for Link to catch his confidence. When he pulled back, Link blushed a stark red against the white daisy, and the flower girl glanced between them, mouth agape. Before she could even squeak, Rhett reached for Link’s hand and lead him towards the theatre.

Link followed, dizzy, and Rhett had never felt so bold. Something about having Link all to himself now emblazoned him with a feeling not altogether unpleasant, something a little bit manic, a little more lovely. Rhett rapt at the abandoned theatre door, dropping four coins into the hand extended to him before pulling Link in front of him and letting Link lead them down into the dark. Link, ever the tease, stopped short in the hallway, and Rhett bumped against his back. Noting the swell of his rump against his thighs, Rhett bucked forward and urged him to continue. Link braced his hands on each wall of the narrow passageway, low candlelight casting him as a flickering beauty, and threw Rhett a look over his shoulder. A bright smile, as white as the daisy behind his ear, and he was off again, weaving down into the theatre, laughter and applause guiding his way.

When they breached the belly, Rhett found where most of the town had gone. More a cove than a theatre, a small stage stretched a few feet above six rows of seats at each side. The usual morning crowd, mostly men, peppered the seats, their fat heads bobbing in the dark. Golden-pronged light fixtures lined the walls, as did long drapes of curtains, and a small band of instruments sat tucked in the corner. Only a single pianist and his piano were there now, trilling notes in tune to the comedy onstage.

Link reached behind him for Rhett’s hand, and after confirming his presence, lead them to the back row on the left. He took up a seat and Rhett sat beside him. Link immediately pressed closer, smiling at Rhett with happy mischief in his eyes.

Illuminated by dim candlelight, the player onstage did one final handstand, then took his props, gave a little wave, and exited. Rhett’s hope fell, sure that it’d been the final act, but a slim man with white hair appeared and spoke.

“Give another round of applause for our opening act.” Tasteful applause, and one jolly, drunken holler. Slim waved to him, silencing the crowd. “Now, let me introduce my players, as our troop gives a somewhat uncomfortable yet surely hilarious adaptation of everyone’s favorite love story. Welcome to another age, welcome to Vienna.” He swept his arm in a gesture and stepped back, allowing the curtains to part. He left the stage as mirrored light fell on a lone figure.

Lights up on a woman in a white dress combing her long, dark hair. When she turned, Link burst into laughter, as the player was a gruff-looking man with an impressive mustache in a wig. The men in the audience didn’t titter as much as Link did, as men almost always played women’s roles, especially in comedy, but when the hairy Juliet flipped her hair over her shoulder and grunted, laughter bubbled up from the crowd. Hilarity in similar patterns continued throughout the scene until Romeo arrived, a young, scrawny-legged kid with bright blond hair, an even funnier contrast to his counterpart. When he dropped to his knee and began professing his undying love, Juliet scrunched up her face and began to weep dramatically. Her bulbous nose and mustache mixed with red lips and sloppy tears had Rhett, Link, and the rest of the audience in stitches.

The play continued, and through it, Link inched ever closer. By nearly an hour in, Romeo and his woman still had yet to kiss, always darting ‘round one another, getting caught by the nurse (who looked distinctively like Harvey the butcher in drag), miming the love story of the age, the rest of their company a cast of jesters. At this time, Link had looped his arm around Rhett and pressed close in the dark, so close Rhett could feel warmth glowing from the spot between tender neck and shoulder. Link’s chest rose and fell with laughter, and as the show went on, Rhett found himself more entranced by the boy beside him than whatever hilarity unraveled onstage.

As Rhett fell deeper in love, caught in the crinkle of Link’s eyes as he laughed, the lovers onstage leaned in to kiss. Link batted Rhett away and made him watch, leaving Rhett to snort as the boyish Romeo closed his eyes and puckered. Juliet peered at him, then in a quick moment, disappeared into the stage wings, a beautiful woman taking his place. She resembled Link, with the same dark hair and pretty smile, a beauty contained in a slight frame with a power much greater than her stage. Link tightened his grip on Rhett’s arm, and Rhett was caught between both dark-haired beauties.

She leaned in for the kiss and met Romeo’s lips just as the crowd burst into applause. Lip-locked, they sank to their knees, and with it, scrawny Romeo didn’t seem so small.

The rest of the play continued with a female lead, outlandish comedy giving way to a rather tasteful rendition. Threads of comedy remained, and the previous comedic Juliet sneaked through scenes, glaring at the new lead, but otherwise the romance played out, captivating. Stage lights illuminated the familiar love story, sheets of sheer blue fabric pulled ‘cross the stage to simulate water, a flow of time, travel. Musicians struck up a melody from the pit, pianist now joined by light guitar and chimes. A few more chorus scenes, a spontaneous drunken ode to the pub above, and one Vienna-style wedding night later, and Link was enchanted. Twined up with Rhett, Link held his breath, hanging on every monologue. In the dark, Rhett could feel him thrumming, admiring art, in his element. Rhett, comfortable with his boy on his arm, settled in to enjoy the rest of the show.

Hours passed this way, picnic basket down by their feet, momentarily forgotten. At the finale, Link’s eyes were wet, and Rhett felt something in his chest a lot like magic. The cast, now familiar in their talents, gave deep bows before signing off. Curtain halves rushed closed, and applause simmered. The white-haired man did not return, and Rhett had a feeling they’d be heading out almost immediately, if not stopping by the pub for a traditional post-show drink.

Eventually, the audience filtered out and regained their usual patterns in the town streets. When Rhett and Link stepped outside, the sun had risen, late afternoon, and cast the square in gold. Link was flushed with emotion from the show, so Rhett suggested they set about collecting food for the picnic. He hadn’t brought any, and instead hoped to spend some of his hard-earned coin on only the best. He was going to treat Link to a feast, farmer’s pay be damned.

Link took the basket and lead him around shops and booths, skipping the meat skewers and instead heading to the bakery. Rhett behind him all the while, Link picked out a handful of rolls and a baguette, as well as some cookies for later. At the vegetable cart, he snagged apples, grapes, and strawberries, and Rhett chose cheese and crackers from another. Rhett took the basket, and Link skipped off to find something else sweet, and upon Rhett’s request, anything pickled. As soon as Link was far enough away, Rhett sneaked over to a cart he’d been eyeing for, in all truth, years. Nestled in scraps of hay and twine sat hearty bottles of wine, and, before Link could catch him, Rhett chose a rich blackberry and paid in gold coins. He tucked it beneath the blanket in the basket and joined Link as he handed him a handful of hard candies and a jar of olives.

It was pleasant, shopping around with Link, something domestic that Rhett could certainly get used to. When they finally found all they could, they shared an apple for good measure on their way up the hill, returning to their favorite spot. Dusty mountains glowing in the sunlight, Link trudged up the slope, Rhett behind him, fingertips gentle on the dip of Link’s spine. At the base of their tree, Link flopped back and sighed. A hint of something erotic tinged his breath, and Rhett licked apple sweetness off his lips as he set the basket down. He hummed his content and shifted the wine deeper as he retrieved the blanket. Rhett nudged Link’s thigh with his boot to get up, leaving a dusty imprint on the black fabric. Link swiped it away, useless, and stood to help Rhett lay the spread.

Rhett fluffed the light blanket over the grass, settling it smooth, then set the basket at one corner. Link bounced around excitedly as Rhett laid the bread, cheese, and olives at the center, grapes and strawberries at hand’s reach, and a few cookies by Link on request. Link glanced at Rhett before waving his hand, orbs of light appearing in the tree branches overhead. They twinkled like fireflies, or stars on twine, and with another sweep of his hand, Link sprouted flowers all along the border of their blanket. Rhett beamed, proud of Link’s progress, and beckoned him closer. Link immediately complied, sitting close to Rhett as he tore chunks of bread and topped them with cheese.

Link sat so close, smiling so pretty, that Rhett was tempted to feed him. Nervous, shallow breaths, Rhett urged himself once again to be brave and lifted the bread and cheese to Link’s mouth. Without breaking the gaze, Link opened and took the bread from Rhett’s fingers, lips barely brushing. Link brought a hand up to help him bite off a piece, closing his eyes at the comfort of a good cheese. Unable to help himself, Rhett waited for Link to finish the bread, then fed him a strawberry, noting the soft pink of his lips against the red fruit. Link seemed to like being fed, but went for the rest of the spread himself, eager in hunger. Rhett appreciated that about Link, his love of food. As if everything they tasted was worth lavishing, even if it was simply potato stew. Flushing with excitement, Rhett couldn’t imagine how Link would appreciate a fine wine, how it’d go right to his silly head.

Said head now bumped into Rhett’s shoulder, bringing him down to earth. Rhett ruffled Link’s hair, loosening his scent beneath the dark, shiny tresses. Rhett breathed him in and moved to cradle Link’s face. He held Link’s eyes, not daring to blink, as he said, “I’m glad to be here with you.”

Link pressed his cheek into Rhett’s hand, covering him with his own, and released him. He said nothing, only reached for a grape and brought it to Rhett’s mouth. Like Link, Rhett took it into his mouth softly, keeping the gaze. Link let out a small huff of pleasure, and leaned back, shaking his hair out. The white daisy fell to the grass. Rhett chewed slowly, unable to look away.

Eventually, the two of them regained the easy flow of conversation. Just as something had changed between them that morning, so did the sense that every moment must be spoken for. They’d spent the day in near-complete silence, due in part to the theatre and its lasting effects. Now, they were used to speaking to each other in touches and gentle looks. Words paled in comparison to a warm body, the brush of an arm or the way Link’s knee always found its way against Rhett’s. Still, they’d built the empire of their friendship on talking to one another, so as they continued to snack, conversation returned.

They spoke of Link’s magic, how far he’d come in such a short amount of time. Link praised Rhett’s farm work, his healthy livestock and crops. Rhett shook his head, said that wasn’t much of a legacy to account for, so Link tried again. He reached for a grape and swallowed before speaking. “I admire how much effort you put in.”

Rhett huffed. “That’s depressing.”

Link pressed, “No, it’s not. You put your heart into everything you do.”

“I don’t know about th-“

“Shut up, you do. You do. You don’t know that you do, but even just taking me around the village, the show, and this picnic, it’s just…” Link sputtered, ran both hands through his hair, revealing his forehead. He brought them back down, and the fluff fell back over his ears and brow. “I can’t stop telling you how great you are.”

Rhett chuckled. “You should.”

“You’re just- you’re so- _guh_!” Link laughed at himself, defeated.

Rhett leaned forward, beaming, love in his cheeks. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. That’s how I feel about you. Don’t even know how great you are.”

Link looked up, something in his face Rhett could finally recognize: the funny guilt of being smitten. He sparked at the sight of it, then willed his heartbeat back down. To steady his nerves, he put one hand on Link’s chest and reached for an olive with another. He popped it in his mouth, spit the pit with little class, and said, “Let’s just enjoy tonight, yeah? We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Relaxing, Link went for a cookie. “Yes,” he agreed. “We do.”

The two ate in pleasant quiet for a moment or two after that. They kept their eyes either on each other or the scene beyond the hillside. Valley rolling low, the woods, and the mountains, those same mountains which had watched the entirety of time play out, forever the elders keeping eyes on their young. Leaning up against the tree, Link muttered something about the breeze, which had Rhett instinctively leaning closer, offering his warmth. After a while, and once stuffed with food, Rhett piqued the question of adventure.

“We are gonna take a trip one day, right? Just the two of us?”

Furrowed brows. “Of course.”

“Where to?”

“Don’t know, was hoping we’d find it when we get there.”

“When do we leave?”

Link sat up a little, met Rhett’s eyes. “Not yet. We’ve got plenty of time, remember?”

Rhett turned his gaze to the horizon. “You’re right. I like being here, more than I used to.”

“What changed?” Link sat up and, though Rhett could see the distended pudge of his full belly, reached for a hard candy regardless.

Cocking his head, Rhett smirked. “I guess _I_ did. And you helped.”

Link quirked a brow. “I did?”

Nodding, Rhett pulled his legs in. “You taught me how to appreciate what I’ve already got here, to see the magic of my own life. I was itching to get out…” Link mirrored Rhett’s body, actively listening. Rhett went on. “I’d come up to this cliff and wish for a less provincial life. Then I met you, and you’re the most incredible thing I’ve ever known, far beyond this world, and yet you’re happy being here. Doing magic in the woods. Talking to me. Enjoying life’s simple pleasures.” Rhett kept his eyes on the sky, tried not to husk too telling the word _pleasures._

Link leaned back against the tree. “I wanted to leave, too. You know that. But I also know we’ve got a long road ahead of us, and there’s no harm at all in appreciating where you’re from. Taking a moment to reflect, breathe easy. I think that’s the most honorable of all, really. Happy without much more than a good friend and a good view.” He rolled his head over to Rhett, casting him a smug look. Link was so cool, sitting there up against the tree, in Rhett’s most sacred, lonely space, Rhett thought he might save the moment forever.

Rhett brought up his right hand and swept it through the air like a painter casting a masterpiece, sealing Link in oils on an invisible canvas. “I’ll take this moment,” he said, painting, “and I’ll remember how good it is to be simple. Being here with you…” Rhett lowered the paintbrush. “It’s all I’d ever need.”

Link sighed a breath which said, _Me too,_ but his smile was playful. “Why do we always do this? Get caught in these heavy talks, praising each other into oblivion. Why can’t we just speak of silly things like normal guys?”

Carding his fingers through the curls on his forehead, Rhett straightened out. He eyed the horizon, figuring they had a little more than an hour until sunset. They’d been sitting for a while, that was clear by the stiffness in his back, but he figured now was the perfect moment. “Silly, you say?” Rhett raised an eyebrow and reached into the picnic basket, retrieving the blackberry wine.

Link eyed it and split into a massive grin. “You dog.”

“Blackberry. Only the best for my boy.” Rhett licked his lips, enclosing a big hand over the bottleneck. “If he wants some, of course.”

Link lunged for the bottle, but Rhett yanked it back. “Gimme.”

“What do you say?”

“Please.” Link squirmed, but Rhett kept his eyes stern, pinning Link where he sat. Link, undeterred, flicked his tongue. “I want it.”

For a moment, Rhett nearly forgot what they were talking about. Link reminded him by grabbing the wine and uncorking it roughly.

Rhett joked, “What, you gonna magic us some goblets?”

Link glared at him, silently challenging as he brought the rim to his lips and tipped back, taking a hearty swig. Rhett’s cock twitched at the sight of Link’s lips on a bottleneck. When Link pulled off, he rolled the wine on his tongue before swallowing. He closed his eyes against the warmth and handed it over. Rhett took a drink to follow, full stomach appreciating the deep blackberry taste, aged and darkly sweet. Taking it into his belly bloomed low warmth, and he took another small sip before passing it over. Link reached for it, eyes going dark, and Rhett suddenly felt the most intimate they’d been yet. Drinking with Link was the first of many new experiences, or so Rhett hoped, and the look of him in black, swigging from a wine bottle, had Rhett excited in more ways than one.

As the early evening went on, Rhett and Link continued to drink. They let the wine work their stomachs until they each disappeared individually, into the bushes, and returned to the rest of food with renewed vigor. Wary of stuffing themselves, the two only continued to snack on cookies and hard candies as they drank together, chatting of silly nonsense like dreams and fairies. Time passed slowly, in woozy waves of laughter and close bodies, and before long, the sky darkened. Like the morning, silver light settled in, along with a chill, but Rhett and Link were too drunk and heated to notice.

The wine kept them warm, and sitting close under the tree, neither of them feared the night. Sipping from the same bottle, dark blackberry guiding them into drunkenness, Rhett and Link loosened. They slumped together, peacefully alone with shoulders touching, only a wine bottle between them. Distant sound from the town behind them gave way to a silent night, and drinking and feeding each other strawberries, the two took the night for themselves, like lovers on a date.

Sun darkening the sky from gray to pink to purple, it dipped beyond the mountains and held their fascination at the horizon as stars rose over the land. Unlike the false stars Link had made in his bedroom, the real night sky was full of _space,_ gaps between stars stretching out for lightyears of navy, a blackness, leaving only a smattering of stardust across their visible sky. All the same, it was breathtaking, and Rhett pulled Link closer under the brightening stars.

Link was warmer than he’d ever been, cheeks burning red from the wine and perhaps something else, limbs all over the place as he snuggled up to Rhett. He began babbling, as Links are often prone to do, and Rhett listened, drunk and happy. Rhett took another drink as Link lolled his head back and smiled, eyes closed, into the night. He went on and on about something not worth repeating without being drunk, and threw more than a few sloppy compliments Rhett’s way. As he settled against Rhett’s side, his nonsense balanced out into something a lot like memory. Rhett handed the bottle back, half empty now, and Link took another swig before speaking.

“My first successful cast was… Ahhh, too long ago to mention. No. It’s good. Yes. I think I was eight, maybe younger. My mother taught me to throw a ball of light. That’s it. Just conjure up the energy, the glow, hold it in your palms like it’s got a heartbeat, and thrust it like this.” He demonstrated, jerking Rhett awake. The sky was very dark now, and Link slumped back against the tree, glancing up at the orbs overhead and waving a hand to brighten them. The area above their heads glowed peacefully, like a protective charm. Rhett let out a genuine gasp of amazement.

Link went on. “I remember it felt so much like creation. Is that right? The word? Like magic, like I’ve just put this into the world, my powers, I _did_ that. I _created_ something. And then when I started reading books and learning runes - ah, runes - it was like turning words to magic. Into a scene, or something wonderful, something else. Transfiguration is hard. I’ve always liked making potions…” Link trailed off, and Rhett found himself distracted by Link’s thigh and wanting to put his hand on it.

With a start, Link jumped up and ran to the edge of the cliff. Rhett followed, immediately awakened by the rush of cold air. He stumbled on his feet, wobbly in drunkenness, and joined Link at the edge. Link looked out over the valley, squinted at the mountains, then spread his arms wide and laughed. He twirled, arms outstretched, into the frigid night. Puffs of hot breath came like laughter, and Link let loose. Rhett hung back, transfixed, as Link danced under the stars. Red-faced and laughing, Link was sillier than he’d ever been, finally free. Rhett was about to join him in spinning, but Link slowed himself and shook out his hands. Without saying anything else, he raised his palms and gathered lightning, a type of cast Rhett hadn’t seen from Link in a while. Link swept his hands out over the cliff’s edge and sparks of light shot forth, turning to streaks against the sky like glitter. Link laughed again and continued to cast, brushstrokes of shimmering light.

Rhett stayed put and watched, for perhaps the first time, as Link seemed to truly _enjoy_ his magic. He smiled wider with every spell, allowing himself the drunken night to paint the sky in colors, just a skinny boy in black at the cliff’s edge, a sea of sparkles cast from his palms. His magic mixed with the stars and seemed to take on a life of its own, swirling ‘round the space like ribbons in the wind. Link continued to celebrate, dance a magic dance, before he glanced over his shoulder and spoke to Rhett.

“Come here,” he said, and Rhett obeyed. “Watch this.”

The ribbons of light settled into a simmer as Link took a deep breath and raised his arms, about to conduct. Rhett kept his eyes on Link’s hands as Link steadied himself, called to every power within himself, and flicked his magic at the sky.

Bursts of light rushed forward, another surge, then another, as Link continued to pulse magic. Rhett looked, and suddenly the orbs of light uncurled into rabbits, silver, gold, and every color in between, shimmering in that same translucence of that very first day. One last wave of rabbits, pink and purple, blue, green, and yellow, and some streaks of glitter for good measure, and the navy sky was alight with bunnies. An incandescent scene, a few rabbits climbed high, hopping through the air at varying levels of elevation, shimmering amongst the stars. There must have been at least thirty of them, magic colored rabbits, alive with twitchy noses and floppy ears. Glitter fell like stardust as the bunnies bounced about, trailing shooting stars in their wake.

Amazed, Rhett came upon Link and put his hands on his waist. Link, exhausted, slumped back against him, and Rhett held him steady.

“Before I met you,” Link breathed, “I could only do one…”

Tightening his hold, Rhett pressed his mouth to Link’s hair, muttering praise. “You’re incredible, Link, amazing, brilliant, spectacular…”

Link relaxed in Rhett’s arms, allowing Rhett to enclose him in his tall frame and nuzzle his face in Link’s neck. Rainbow rabbits sparkling in the sky, Rhett found himself completely enthralled, certain now that Link had called for him that first day. That tricky silver rabbit was _Link,_ guiding Rhett to him, and Rhett was so overwhelmed with it, completely smitten, that he couldn’t help but press a few kisses to Link’s neck. Link groaned, tipped his head back, and gave Rhett more skin. Rhett tightened his arms ‘round Link’s middle and moved to kiss his cheek, but Link was already there, turning his head. They met lips, sparking like magic.

Rhett kissed Link ( _kissing Link, I’m kissing Link_ ), and Link kissed back. He turned in Rhett’s arms to press their bodies together, never breaking the smooch. Rhett squeezed Link against his body and felt Link’s hands on his back, sliding up and into his hair and pulling, angling his head to deepen the kiss. Rhett, eyes closed, fell into Link, dipping him back and claiming his mouth for real. 

Drunk on love and blackberry wine, Rhett went hot all over, blushing deeply. He snaked a hand into Link’s hair and tugged, opening Link’s mouth in a pleasured gasp, damp against his cheek. Rhett pressed his mouth to Link’s neck, cheek, the slit of his lips, even his eyebrow, kissing him everywhere he could now that he had the chance. Little finesse but certainly lusty, and Rhett was taking Link’s mouth again, running his tongue along the inner seam of Link’s bottom lip. Link yielded to him and tongued back, tasting of blackberry and the unique sweetness of his mouth. Rhett stumbled, gripping Link harder, and kissed him like he’d never kissed anyone (he hadn’t, not really). In fact, even through his drunken state, Rhett was sure he was doing it wrong, too much tongue, too little lips. Regardless, Link seemed to like it, and pushed back against Rhett, eager for more. They grabbed for each other, hot against the night, and as Link melted, so did the magic scene around them. Rabbits collapsed into iridescent wind, and within a moment, the sky was empty. Neither Rhett nor Link noticed, of course, as Link was busy sucking Rhett’s tongue, and Rhett was busy trying not to burst his seams.

Finally, after a long-awaited moment of touch, Link pulled back, face flush. He kept his arms locked on Rhett’s waist and looked up at him, something sultry and satisfied in his smirk.

Rhett blinked, kissed stupid. “Link, you…?”

Link nuzzled into Rhett’s chest, huffing a laugh. “You really are clueless.”

Rhett blinked again, then enclosed Link against his chest and held him. Resting his chin on Link’s head, Rhett looked out over the valley. He took a deep breath, checking to assure he was still alive, and Link hummed a matching sigh, ribs expanding against him. Rhett held Link for a quiet moment, just two boys in time about to embark on something they deserved, something absolutely enchanting, and pressed his lips against Link’s part. Link snuggled into him, sweetest boy.

Just to make sure, Rhett took Link by the biceps and held him away just enough to kiss him again, Link’s head tipped up, Rhett’s smooching down. Link vibrated a little noise of surprise, and when Rhett pulled back, Link chased his mouth. Link kissed him once more, perhaps just to make sure for himself, then went back to his new favorite spot, cheek against Rhett’s chest.

Rhett may have previously thought that he did not deserve this moment, this sweet, kissable boy, a best friend and playmate, or the beautiful night sky above them. He might have said that God had played a trick on him, sent him this sorcerer who it seemed no one else could tame, only to take him away again. But Rhett knew better. Here and now, God was not playing tricks. Link was not going to leave again, and if he did, he’d take Rhett with him. And, even if it happened to fall apart, Rhett was fearless. He had Link now, right here, right now, and that was enough. He wasn’t going to let him go if he could help it, of course, but he wasn’t scared. No, this time, it seemed Link really wanted to be with him. Link wanted to _be_ with him, stay with him and be his, let Rhett parade him around like the beauty he was, smooch him to space and back. Rhett’s love was reciprocated, at least in a kiss, and Rhett knew where he belonged. Right here, with his boy and the woods.

He pressed his mouth against Link’s ear and, forever curious, asked, “Since when?”

Link looked up, fingers playing at the hem of Rhett’s tunic. “Since that very first day, when else?”

“Really?” Rhett’s heart fluttered.

Link put his hands on Rhett’s hips and leaned back, holding him honest. “Rhett.” Link looked at him, and told him with his eyes that it’d always been Rhett, ever since that fateful afternoon, since the very minute his rabbit lead Rhett to his door, since he heard Rhett’s voice for the first time.

Link closed his eyes and pursed his lips, asking for a kiss, asking Rhett, in his own way, _What about you?_

Rhett responded with a smooch, tipping Link back like a dancer and his partner, mouthing hot along his neck, whispering, “The moment I saw you. Instantly.”

Shivering in answer, Link pushed back and took Rhett’s mouth, sick of talking. He gave one last wet kiss before twisting out of Rhett’s arms, dancing away. He fluttered his hand, beckoning, and Rhett followed, hot in his skin and still drunk. He chased Link down the hillside, neither of them paying mind to their picnic, leaving the spread beneath the tree as they darted away, back into town.

It was dark and quiet, save for the pub, which went on through the night in drunken merriment. A few stragglers roamed the sleepy town, but nobody paid the two boys any mind as they sprinted ‘cross the square as if brothers racing each other. Link was fast, but Rhett was faster (longer legs), and overtook him as they neared the dirt path exiting town. He passed, enchanted boots leaving Link’s bare feet in the dust. He turned to laugh at Link, but then Link was on him, tackling him into the grassy bank beside the road. Breathless, Rhett let Link pin him down, crawl over him and press their hips together. Before Rhett could even gasp at what he felt, there between Link’s legs, Link caught his mouth in a kiss. Link began grinding into Rhett’s thigh, keeping Rhett low with his weight, and with a flush of arousal, Rhett realized Link felt the same. Whatever Link wanted was a want which matched Rhett’s lusty dreams, and, still relatively clueless about the whole thing, Rhett figured that might mean they’d soon be having sex.

Rhett groaned into Link’s mouth, body bucking up against Link’s in response. He didn’t have the time to reflect on what a blissful moment it was, for soon Link was gasping words into his neck, hips rocking on his thigh for friction. Rhett reached for him, finding his taut waist, shirt riding up to reveal hot, bare skin. Rhett touched him there, his back and his waist, slipping his fingertips down his tailbone, barely brushing the hem of his trousers.

Link moaned, shifting them both in the cold grass, bare waist red-hot in Rhett’s hands. “Rhett. _Rhett_.”

“Link-“

Heavy atop him, Link kept Rhett where he wanted him, smooching his neck with hot lips. Another kiss, a press of hips, and then, “Come on.”

Quick on his feet, Link leapt up and yanked Rhett with him, taking his hand and running both of them away and into the woods.

* * *

Rhett chased Link through the woods, two free spirits. Now, if you’ve never run through a forest at night, you might not know the particular sense of liberation I mean. And, if on top of that, you’ve never chased the love of your life, drunk on laughter and blackberry wine, inkling that at the end of the chase, you’ll get a kiss and something more, you might not understand how thrilling these next few moments will be for Rhett and Link. But don’t worry, I’ll bring you along as witness.

Rhett chased Link through the woods, darkness and a cold rush of open night air. Tree trunks were but swatches of shadows as they passed, light on their drunken feet, Rhett in boots, Link without. Twigs and damp earth crunched beneath their weight, and branches whipped at them as they passed, whisking, _Keep running._ Forever obeying the will of the trees, Link picked up speed, and Rhett followed. The sight of Link before him, dark hair and moonlight at the nape of his neck, darting between trees, had Rhett committing the moment to memory, this moment and the next.

Link threw Rhett a look over his shoulder, giving Rhett opportunity to trip over his feet. He didn’t, and instead snarled, making Link yelp a laugh and duck behind a tree. Rhett came upon it, noting the slight shape of a boy in hiding, and put his hands on the trunk. He rounded the tree to the right, checking, and then the left. Link stayed put, giggling in secret as Rhett went again, surprising Link by kissing his cheeks. Link spun in place and caught Rhett by the neck, looping him in his arms and pressing their bodies flush. He offered one big smooch, then unstuck their lips and ran off again. Rhett, determined not to let the minx kiss and flee, set off after him, another twenty paces or so before catching him.

This time, Rhett grabbed Link by the waist and pulled him back, locking Link in his arms and leaning both of them back against a tree. He took the moment to catch his breath, heavy breathing in Link’s ear as he squirmed. In another life, on another night, Link might have elbowed Rhett in the stomach and twirled away, teasing, but not tonight. Tonight, he relaxed against Rhett and let himself breathe easy, tipped his head back and opened his neck for Rhett’s eager mouth, which was, of course, already there. Rhett rubbed his lips against the column of Link’s neck, peppering kisses down his shoulder, pulling at his shirt to get more skin. When he made it to the swell of Link’s shoulder, beard tickling, Link stepped away and looked at him.

Link gave Rhett a look something stirring, and Rhett knew the chase was over. Link took his hand silently, pressed a kiss to his knuckles, and lead Rhett through the woods at a steady walk. Immediately, Rhett’s heart rate kicked up, excitement in his nerves. He calmed himself as Link walked by eyeing the moon, sky stretching infinite above the tips of trees, stars offering the two their blessing. Taking a deep breath into tender lungs, Rhett squeezed Link’s hand and looked again, finding the lump of Link’s cottage in the distance. The woods were darker than they’d ever been, quiet, too, but the familiar clearing was unmistakable. Heat overtook Rhett as he considered Link’s bedroom, Link’s bed, but a few more paces, and Link backed himself up against a tree. Rhett glanced to his right, Link’s cottage in near view, then back at the boy before him. Link was smiling, pupils blown wide in the dark, tongue tracing his teeth like it did when he had something planned. Rhett dropped his eyes to Link’s mouth, and before he could blink, Link was on him.

Link grabbed Rhett by the back of the neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss, spreading his legs for Rhett to slot between, pinning Link between Rhett and the tree. Link enclosed his arms around Rhett’s neck and shoulders, draping him in his warmth, and Rhett took Link by the waist. Mouthing at Rhett’s ear, Link vibrated in pleasure and moaned, “You’re so sexy…”

“You think so?” Rhett was astonished, as nobody had ever called him that before, and he didn’t know quite what it meant, anyway.

Link showed him by pulling on Rhett’s hips and running his hands up his chest, reaching to grope his rump on the way. “God, yes… Your body,” hands trailing heat in their wake, “your face,” blue eyes blinking up, “and your beard…” With this, Link rubbed his face all over Rhett’s beard, mouth and lips fluffing up the strands. Rhett groaned and moved to rub his beard against Link’s neck, tingling from the tip of his nose to his chin. He wanted to tell Link that _he_ was the sexy one, but by having Link here, alone, Rhett decided to show him instead.

Rhett ran his hands up and down Link’s torso, feeling the straight, solid stretch of him, groaning at how badly he’d wanted to get his hands on Link’s body, this tricky sorcerer’s tricky waist. A flush of heat, and Rhett had Link’s body _here,_ squirming and warm beneath him. He slipped his hands under Link’s shirt, claiming every bit of bare skin, and dusted his fingertips over Link’s nipples. Taking Link by the neck again, Rhett lapped his tongue in long strokes, wetting up Link’s skin before biting softly. Link gasped, and Rhett sucked once before releasing, licking over the imprints.

Link’s legs trembled and spread further, but he caught himself against the tree and looked up at Rhett through a lace of dark lashes. “What was that for?”

“Been wanting to get my hands on this body,” Rhett husked honestly, followed by sweeping both palms down Link’s hips. “And I wanted to mark you up.” He curved to cup Link’s rump and slid his hands back up, over the dip in his spine, cooing in Link’s ear, “Beautiful, magnificent, stunning…” Rhett swept Link’s hair out of his face, dipped his head back, and planted a kiss on his open mouth. He sucked on Link’s lower lip, pressing another kiss just beneath at the line where lip met skin, one on Link’s chin, and pulled back.

Link blinked up with slow, hooded lids, kiss-dizzy. Pleasantly surprised by Rhett’s newfound mouth skills, Link leaned into Rhett and gasped, “Kiss me.”

So, Rhett did. Of course he did.

Rhett kissed Link for a long time, until he’d kissed Link all he could and Link started kissing back, until there was nothing left of their drunkenness but the taste of each other’s mouths, until they’d pressed their bodies together so snug, they’d have sworn they’d never been apart. Link couldn’t keep his hands off Rhett’s waist and hips, grabby, and Rhett wanted to hold Link’s head in his hands forever. The lovers moved languidly with each kiss, swiveling heads to lick deeper, hands and arms switching to find more wonderful touch. Rhett took Link by the waist, wrapping his long arms as tightly as he could, and Link held on for his life. As Link experimented on Rhett with his tongue, Rhett, in one smooth movement, lifted Link up and pinned him against the tree. Link groaned at the harsh rub of bark at his back, seemingly glutton for pain, and Rhett pressed harder, looping Link’s skinny legs ‘round his hips. On command, Link crossed his ankles and clung, enclosing the entirety of Rhett against his body. Rhett trailed the tip of his chilly nose along Link’s neck, under the cut of his jaw, and there, in the dark, empty woods, strung between tree and his farmboy, Link flourished.

It was about this time, with Rhett’s lips at Link’s clavicle, that Rhett remembered he, himself, was aroused. He was hot, and so was Link, and with a rush of something new, Rhett noted the press of Link’s cock against his belly. Link’s thin black clothes did little to hide any of his incredible body, groin included. What Rhett had thought he’d seen at the waterfall had nothing on this moment, here with Link, hot and erect and demanding to be felt. And _God, fuck,_ Rhett felt it. Every beautiful inch of it, nestled perfectly between their stomachs, straining beneath fabric.

Gasping at the sensation, Rhett dug his fingernails into Link’s hips. He had never felt so _hot,_ not even the ghostings of his dreams had left him this heated. Link had him alive like he’d never felt, keyed up and electric. Fortunately, Link seemed to feel the same, for his cheeks burned crimson in the dark, and every new touch had him shivering.

Emblazoned by lust and Link’s heavy breathing, Rhett slipped a hand between them and reached for Link’s cock. As soon as he made contact, Link gasped and dropped his legs. Rhett pressed him steady against the tree and kept touching him through the fabric, tracing the outline of his cock. Eyes closed and a furrowed brow, Link clawed at the tunic on Rhett’s shoulders. Rhett kept him suspended beneath his hand, reveling in how Link swelled, but then Link was reaching for him, eager to touch Rhett in return. Link pawed at Rhett’s cock, grumbling dirty praise at its thickness, and squeezed just as Rhett had done.

The two gasped in rhythm into each other’s shoulders, then silently agreed to kiss again. Rhett took Link’s mouth and kissed him nice and wet, bucking into Link’s hand. Link bucked back, and with that, their romp finally began to speed up.

Rhett’s fingers ghosted at Link’s hem, tugging the silver string ties, teasing, but as soon as Link plunged his hand into Rhett’s trousers and gripped his cock bare, Rhett did the same. He took Link in hand and grumbled a sound he didn’t think he could make, sparking red-hot at the touch. Longer than he’d expected, Link surged hot and silken in his palm. Rhett reveled, but Link was desperate and pumped Rhett steadily, urging Rhett to follow his lead. Rhett complied, tugging Link’s cock, burying his face in Link’s neck.

They stroked each other like that for a hot moment, then another, a knowing owl hooting overhead. With steamy breath, they kissed and pulled off and kissed again, too shy to meet eyes but daring to all the same, holding each other steady, wrists rolling in time. Another moment after that, and Rhett and Link neared a crest, coming close. Rhett was about to stutter that he couldn’t hold out, but Link stopped him by pulling his hand off and sinking to his knees. He didn’t give Rhett a chance to breathe before Link had his mouth on Rhett’s cock, gripping his hips.

Rhett grit his teeth, bucked forward, and pulled on Link’s head, gathering all his power not to come right then, right down Link’s throat. Somehow, he managed, and breathed shallow, shaky breaths through his nose, crumpling Link’s shirt at his shoulders. Link, always impressive, pulled off with a wet pop and looked up. Rhett’s cock glistened with slick, saliva strung from the flushed head to Link’s puffy mouth. Feigning innocence, Link batted his eyelashes and took Rhett in hand. Link rolled a tight fist up and down the wet length of him, smiling pretty against the night. Rhett couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, and then -

“I’ve dreamed of sucking this cock, Rhett. Want to so bad.” Wide eyes holding steady, and Link sunk his mouth again, Rhett collapsing forward in a huff.

Rhett landed both hands on the tree, framing Link down below with arms like high bridges. He scraped his fingertips along the grooves in the bark, fingernails catching the wood, as Link continued to suck him. Like a good boy, Link didn’t let up, even when Rhett’s thighs trembled, even when he began bucking into Link’s mouth, even when he went completely silent with the pleasure of it.

Quiet settled in, save for Rhett’s gruff breaths and the soft suckling sounds of Link’s mouth on his cock. Rhett breathed steam into the night, too focused on the pleasure at his groin to enjoy the woods around him. A few minutes of relative silence, of Rhett bracing himself in pleasure, and not even the stars dared to twinkle too noisy. Insects may have clicked from the bushes, or the friendly owl’s friendly hoot, but Rhett heard none of it. He was lost to Link’s mouth, eyes closed, trying desperately not to peek at the view, handsome Link nursing him, lips stretched ‘round the thick of him.

Link took him deeper, deeper still, then pulled off, trailing his tongue along the underside as he went. He squeezed Rhett’s hips, swiveled his head to rub the slit of his mouth along the shaft, and met Rhett’s eyes. “Talk to me,” he ordered.

“Oh my God, Link, your mouth, your fucking mouth… Can’t even think, so hot, so wet, and your _tongue,_ can’t even look at you, so pretty, so good on your knees, so fucking _hot,_ incredible, and - oh my God, oh my God, do that again, please, oh my _God!”_

Spurred by Rhett’s enthusiasm, Link tried it again. He stroked up Rhett’s cock, gathered the foreskin around the head, and traced his tongue beneath the flesh. Link swirled his tongue, lapping at the head and coaxing another blurt of slick from the slit. Flicking his eyes up, Link licked it away, smiling into the taste. Rhett huffed, exasperated at Link’s never-ending sensuality.

Link swallowed him down, did something exquisite with his mouth, and pulled off, leaving sticky globs and bubbles along Rhett’s cock. It was the lewdest thing Rhett had ever seen, and as Link went down again, Rhett decided it was also the best.

He carded his fingers through Link’s feathery hair, sweet-talking him with a dirty mouth. “You been dreaming of sucking this cock, Link?”

Link hummed around him, one hand disappearing down towards his own cock, a silent yes. Link rolled and curved his tongue along the shape of him, and Rhett kept talking.

“Fuck, Link, you’re doing so well, I might have thought you’d done this before.” Rhett tucked a strand of hair behind Link’s ear lovingly, and Link slid back with swollen lips.

“Haven’t,” he gasped, slightly out of breath. “Just you.”

“How’s that now?”

“Rhett.” Link put a hand where his mouth had been, tugging Rhett slow as he spoke up to him, tongue heavy. “I’ve been alone a long time, just waiting for a handsome prince like you to get my mouth on, so, if you don’t mind, I’m going to suck your cock like I’m dying for it.” _Suck it like a cockslut._

Mouth on cock once more, and Rhett had no complaints.

In fact, for Link, Rhett had only praise. He kept his fingers layered in Link’s hair, tugging firm, and told him, over and over, how good his mouth felt. With Link on his knees, Rhett was fearless and possessive, and he squished Link’s face so his lips crumpled around his cock, reminding him with a gentle smack to his cheek, “You’re mine.”

Yes, Rhett grew bolder in pleasure with every suck, every lap of Link’s tongue, and soon, the words tumbling from his own filthy mouth had him hot in his skin.

“Look at you,” he husked, “touching yourself down there.” Rhett’s eyes burned amber in the dark. “You just so hot for it, Link? My cock in your mouth?”

Link nodded vigorously, bouncing Rhett in his mouth, and stripped his own cock faster. Rhett could see, there between his legs, jutting up from the hem and held proud in Link’s hand. Rhett promised himself he’d get Link back for this, get his mouth on that cock, if it was the last thing he’d ever do. Then he promised Link, too.

Eventually, Rhett’s chatter turned to grunts, fucking Link’s face with little finesse. Link squirmed between his hand on his cock and Rhett’s cock in his mouth, moaning around the meat of him. The sensation of Link’s moans on his cock was what did him in, really, and soon Rhett was crowding Link close between the tree and his legs, tugging his hair and stuttering, “Link, please, I’m gonna, I’m gonna-“

Link flicked his eyes up and sank all the way down, farther than Rhett had even considered, throat flexing tight and wet around him. He pulled back with a gasp, reached to squeeze Rhett’s testicles, and that’s when Rhett came. He came partway on Link’s mouth, but Link closed his lips quick and caught the rest of it, sinking down to get every last drop. Rhett sparked through a few waves of pleasure, bones turning to stardust. Cupping Link’s cheek in his hand, Rhett watched dreamily as Link pulled back for a final time and licked the remaining stickiness off his lips.

“Good boys swallow,” he said. Link smiled a grin far too innocent for his filthy mouth, and Rhett surged.

He pulled Link to his feet and pushed him against the tree, taking Link in hand and tugging him off quick. Link scrabbled for hold at Rhett’s back, breathless, sweeping down to squeeze his rump. It was only a moment of pulling Rhett into him, spreading one leg for Rhett to fit closer, before Link was taking Rhett’s hand. Link guided Rhett’s left hand to his throat, enclosing his fingers over the curve of it. Eyes closed, Link bucked into Rhett’s touch and placed his hand over Rhett’s on his throat, guiding, squeezing.

Rhett’s mouth went dry. “Come on, baby. Come nice and hard for me, pretty boy.”

Link dropped his hand, Rhett gave his throat a gentle squeeze, and then Link was coming. Rhett held him through it, tugging with his right as his left choked him softly. Link gasped, squirmed, and came hot and sticky all over Rhett’s hand, spurting another round on his shirt as Rhett leaned to nibble his ear, never once releasing his neck. A kiss to the lips, and one final, steady pull, and Link was done for.

* * *

As their breathing calmed, so did their heartbeats, and soon, the night chill overtook what had previously been lusty heat. Rhett released Link, placed a kiss to his neck, and tucked him back in his (soiled) trousers, meekly pulling at the damp string ties. Link wrapped an arm around Rhett and did the same for him, enclosing Rhett against him once they both had settled. He brushed his lips over Rhett’s eyebrow, holding him at peace.

“Sorry,” Rhett huffed. “Don’t know what came over me, those things I said…”

Link squeezed him, nuzzled his neck. “It was perfect. You’re perfect.”

They held each other for a moment, chests pressed so close their heartbeats matched time. When they truly couldn’t stand the chill a moment longer, Link walked Rhett the remaining paces to his cottage and ushered him inside. Rhett immediately went to the far wall and turned, watching Link close the round front door. They met eyes across the room, tense, and rushed to each other. In the warmth of Link’s home, Rhett took Link in his arms again, and kissed him tender. Just a steady press of lips, closed mouths as they swayed in comfort. Rhett swept Link’s hair back and chuckled at the pink in his cheeks, pressing one soft, beardy kiss to each before saying, “I love you.”

Link smiled at him and, without a hint of hesitation, replied, “And I love you.”

Rhett kissed Link’s forehead and held him close. Wordlessly, they sunk to their knees in the middle of Link’s cottage, flames blazing orange in the hearth. Rhett laced his fingers in Link’s and smiled. “We should clean ourselves up some. Not too late for a dip in the swimming hole, is it?”

Link shook his head fondly and stood. “I’ve got a better idea.” He stripped himself of his come-soaked shirt and trousers, standing before Rhett as bare as the dickens. Link reached for a cloth atop the counter and dipped it in the pot over the flames, bringing it back and smoothing warm water over his skin. Rhett watched, silent, as Link cleaned himself off and moved to a trunk. He bent over, and Rhett flicked his tongue at the sight of his pert little rump. Link then dressed himself in black clothes, a perfect recreation of his everyday look. Rhett figured he’d only had just the one, but Link was full of surprises.

Link rung out the rag, dipped it again, and brought it back to Rhett, sitting cross-legged before him on the floor. Silently, he reached for Rhett’s face and wiped at him softly, infinite care. Rhett’s clothes, while rumpled, were relatively clean, as Link had sucked all the come out of him, leaving nary a stain. His face, however, was damp in lusty sweat and a thousand sloppy kisses.

Once clean, safe, and warm, Rhett and Link ate a late dinner of vegetable soup, lamented the picnic basket they’d left behind, then turned in for the night. They took up in Link’s bedroom, more intimate now than ever, and snuggled together under the blankets. Twined up like a mama bear and her cub, Rhett whispered sweetness at Link’s ear ’til he fell asleep.

Rhett stayed awake, blinking up at the starless ceiling, for one blissfully happy moment longer, before he, too, drifted off into sleep.

The two slept peacefully through the night, and for the first time in a long time, neither of them dreamed.

Who needs dreams, anyway, when waking life is your most precious fantasy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 29th wedding anniversary to my parents!! Here's some ridiculous smut I hope you never read!! 
> 
> P.S. This is the chapter I've been nervous to write since conception, so if you love these two as much as I do and screamed as much as I did when they finally kissed, please don't hesitate to come yell at me about it ❤︎ 
> 
> One more chap to go!! :))


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All stories must end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This finale is pure fluff and smut. You've been warned.

Rhett awoke with Link’s mouth on his cock. He blinked groggy into the pleasure, caught sight of Link’s cupid’s bow lips stretched ‘round him, and remembered the night before in a pleasured rush. He huffed a sleepy whine and fell back against the pillows, courting the memory. The play, the picnic, and the chase through the woods were dream-like in their fantasy, and having a drunk, giggly Link suck him off against the dark forest night was something Rhett was sure he’d dreamed before. It was a night not soon forgotten, and given the lasting pleasure Rhett awoke to, he figured the night of lovemaking was far from over.

Happiness may have been the proper word to describe the sensation, but Rhett figured miracle fit the moment best. He had Link, just as he wanted, and Link wasn’t going anywhere.

Link made that quite clear as he shifted low on the bed and nosed along Rhett’s stomach, humming appreciation into his belly. Link neared his groin and sunk his mouth down again, capturing Rhett in his throat and keeping him pinned, hands on Rhett’s hips. How Link could take him all, gagging on his thickness with little regret, Rhett wasn’t sure, but as he moved his hands down and into Link’s feathery hair, Rhett figured it didn’t matter. Link liked sucking cock, Rhett’s especially, so Rhett let him taste all he wanted. As he carded his fingers through Link’s wings and traced his cheeks, touching soft where he disappeared hard between Link’s lips, Rhett murmured fevered praise.

“Good morning to you, too,” he said, voice croaky in sleep.

Link pulled off with a wet gasp, Rhett’s cock bouncing embarrassingly against his cheek. Link held it there and stared Rhett down, mischief in his blue eyes. “You were hard when I woke up,” he said, tugging on Rhett’s cock with gentle fingers.

“You think that gives you permission to swallow me down?”

Link blanched, slight fear passing his face. Rhett smoothed the frown away with his fingertips then looped to cup the back of Link’s head, giving his consent by pulling Link’s mouth back on his cock. Link resumed suckling, swirling his tongue and smiling into the taste. Rhett relaxed and let the man do his work.

It was only a matter of minutes before Rhett came quick, Link sucking hollows into his cheeks and taking every last twitch and tremble as Rhett spilled into his mouth. He sucked Rhett dry, just like the night before, and pulled off the flushed cockhead with a small kiss. He showed Rhett his tongue, spotless, and grinned filthy.

“Come for breakfast,” he teased.

Rhett grumbled like a papa bear in heat and surged, capturing Link’s neck in his mouth, grabbing him by the waist, and throwing him back on the bed, flipping their positions. Before Link could even yelp, Rhett snuffled down his body and pulled his cock from his hem, immediately sucking it into his mouth. Rhett pushed at Link’s shirt, sweeping warm hands up Link’s bare waist (even prettier in morning light than moonlight), and pulled off for a moment, just enough to catch Link’s eyes. He placed a soft bite on Link’s hipbone and looked up at him. Link puffed a whine at the loss of Rhett’s tongue, so Rhett took him in his hand.

“Last night was the most incredible night of my life.” He said this in complete sincerity; it was the truth.

Familiar smirk, “Mine t-“ but Rhett kept talking, tugging Link easy.

“You sucked me so good, it’s only fair I return the pleasure.” Rhett gave Link a naughty look and squeezed his hip, leaning down once more. He ghosted hot breath over Link’s cock, admiring. His mouth watered at the sight.

Link kept his eyes fond as he looked down his body at Rhett, and it only took one tug of Rhett’s hair to get his beardy mouth back on him. Link watched as Rhett licked at the tip just for taste, then sunk his mouth down, small and wet.

The room went tense with the sudden rush of Link’s pleasure, and his wiggly body squirmed. In his own blurry, post-orgasmic bliss, Rhett figured Link had probably never had his cock sucked before, and given the show he put on for Rhett the night before, Rhett owed him something great.

So, Rhett tightened his grip on Link’s hips, shoved him rough to get his attention, and reciprocated just as Link was owed. He took the full length of him past his lips, nudging at the roof of his mouth, and closed his eyes into the feeling, silken at the touch, hot on his tongue. Rhett hollowed his cheeks, looking gaunt and just a bit starved, and curled his tongue at the underside. Link responded beautifully, canting his hips to chase his throat. He could hear Link breathing for it, gasping just a bit whiny, and Rhett wanted to give him everything he deserved.

What followed is something I’m sure you can imagine well - Rhett pinning Link’s skinny, squirmy body to the bed, sucking him with all the desperate class of a man starved for cock, making Link whimper slutty into the quiet morning. Link kept his hands in Rhett’s hair, twisting and pulling, and Rhett kept his mouth as tight and as wet as he could. He’d wanted to have Link like this from the moment he saw him, despite whether he knew it or not. All the time spent pining, fantasizing of a morning such as this, had come to life, and Rhett wasn’t about to let it pass by. He’d pause to appreciate the sight of it, and God, Link in pleasure was a beautiful sight indeed.

Link balled the blanket in his fists and thrust his hips when he came, locked in Rhett’s mouth. Rhett kept him there, suspended, as he crested, rubbing soothing circles into Link’s hips with his thumbs, taking every last drop, just as Link had. Rhett swirled the slick around Link’s cock with his tongue, urging another small spurt, before swallowing and pulling off. Interesting, slightly salty taste, Rhett’s mouth felt fuzzy and sticky as he smacked his lips, and he peeked to check Link’s reaction. Link, the lovely thing, was blushing red, slightly frazzled in pleasure. It was spectacular.

Rhett wiped the back of his mouth with his hand. “There,” he gave Link’s thigh a little pat, “Now you know how I feel.”

Link huffed, speechless. He reached for Rhett blindly, and Rhett nuzzled his cheek against Link’s hand. He tucked Link’s soft cock in his trousers and offered a final kiss to his navel before shifting his shirt back in place. When Rhett sat up, Link was too boneless to follow. The sated smile on his face, however, spoke magnitudes.

“How about some real breakfast?” Rhett asked, reaching to help Link sit up. He flicked his tongue, catching the last of Link’s musk on his lips. “Get this taste out of our mouths.”

Link nodded meekly and slipped from the bed, floating, dazed, out of his bedroom. Rhett followed, blessing every fate possible for the sudden arrival of his magnificently smutty good fortune.

* * *

When Link had fully recovered, he went about fixing breakfast. He took the last half of bread from the cupboard and a handful of Rhett’s chicken’s eggs and set about slicing the loaf. Rhett adored watching Link cook and always had, but now he was allowed to sneak up behind him and enclose Link in his arms, rest his chin on Link’s head and hold him close against his body. Rhett swayed Link softly as he sliced bread, humming a little tune in his ear. The morning sun streamed silver-gold through the front windows, prettier than ever, and Rhett felt completely at ease. He nibbled Link’s ear and kissed his neck, listening to the soft slice of bread and knife. A few early morning birds chirped their song from the trees outside. All was well in the cottage kitchen; all was well between them.

“I’m so lucky,” Rhett found himself saying, leaning with Link as he reached for fruit. Pressing his nose to Link’s part and breathing in the scent of him, Rhett tightened his arms. “I’m just so fucking lucky.”

Link bucked back, bum against groin. “Watch your language.”

Rhett bit into Link’s neck, soft mouth. “Can you believe it, Link? I’ve got you here, finally. All mine.”

Link stilled his hands on the counter and leaned back into the embrace. “Mmm, but you’ve always had me. Could’ve been like this from the start.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got you now, and that’s good enough for me.” Rhett gave him another squeeze, smitten kitten. “Got my pretty boyfriend here in my arms, gonna fuck him all day long.”

Link turned his face. “Boyfriend? I like the sound of that.”

Rhett grumbled, bolder than he’d ever been, and bent Link forward over the counter, never ceasing his hold on his waist. “You better, now you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Pushing the bread slices and knife far from himself, Link spread out over the stone counter, fitting himself beneath Rhett at a perfect angle. “What was that you said? Something about fucking?”

Rhett covered Link with his body and pushed his - ever-present, quite insistent - erection against Link’s rump. He teethed Link’s ear and told him flat-out, “Gonna fuck you raw. One of these days, when we’re both good and ready, I’m gonna bend you over like this and fuck you proper.”

“Improper. Fuck me improper.”

“You know I’ve dreamt of having you like this?” Rhett went on, nuzzling between Link’s shoulder blades. “Your body taking all of me, grunting for it. Such a good boy.”

Link let out a sound like he wanted it right here, right now, but Rhett knew they weren’t ready. For starters, despite his dreams, Rhett still had no goddamn clue about how to go about the act, save that it had to be wet, and secondly, he’d need to pick up a bottle of body oil during a trip into town. However, Rhett was unafraid. He and Link would face it together, and once they did, Rhett would sure as hell throw himself down and ask for the same treatment. It would always be balanced, that Rhett knew for sure.

Link seem to know this, too, as he pushed up from the counter and swatted Rhett away. He tossed a handful of fire at the hearth, blooming flames beneath the grate and frying pan sat atop it. He gave Rhett an honest look as the fire crackled. “We’ll get there,” he offered. “I promise. But let’s have some breakfast first. And afterwards, you need to go back into town, do your chores, and fetch the picnic basket. Get everything settled, then come back to me.”

Rhett agreed he would and moved to bring the eggs to the pan. He added a dollop of butter to the sizzling iron as Link sliced fruit, then cracked a few eggs. It was quiet as they fixed breakfast, comfortable. In fact, it was as it always was, cooking together, and by the time they joined at the stone table with bread, eggs, and fruit, the two felt more like boyfriends than ever before. And, as you already know, that’s saying a lot.

They ate peacefully, feeding each other bits of bread topped with egg, following with apples and berries. Link lingered in sucking the egg goop off Rhett’s fingers, and Rhett was shameless in running his foot up Link’s leg under the table. They feasted until satisfied, then feasted more for good measure. By the time Link sent Rhett on his way, kiss goodbye on his lips, something gleamed in his eye that had Rhett thinking Link had something planned. When he gave Rhett’s bum a little smack and said, “Take your time, but hurry back soon,” Rhett figured he was probably right.

Rhett left Link’s cottage already missing him, and set off through the woods with a spring in his step. He’d finish his chores quick, get the basket, and return to Link and whatever he was planning as soon as he could. As Rhett stepped over twigs and fallen branches, he caught himself smiling to himself. The wind whispered that it’d seen what they’d done the night before, and with another gust kissing his cheeks, the spirits gave their approval.

Rhett walked, then walked some more. Rhett paused.

Rhett breathed.

Now, usually at this point on his trek through the woods, Rhett would have stopped, looked at the trees, and reflected on all the time spent with Link. He’d ponder, pining, and note all the moments Link touched him like it was the last. This time, however, Rhett did not. This time when Rhett paused to admire the woods, he thought of the future, his future with Link. Rhett thought of what he and Link could be, would be, and how safe he and Link both felt waking up in the same bed. As he’d already discovered, meeting Link had been a journey, but now, there was promise of a different kind of adventure ahead. Just as Link had leaned suave in his doorway at the start of their story, a hint of something new, now he and Rhett would embark _together,_ learn how to be in love _together._

Back in motion, Rhett brushed a branch aside, warmth in his belly. They loved each other. They were in love. And the truth of it brought a landslide of wonderings. What kind of sorcerer would Link grow to be with Rhett by his side? What would it be like to have dinner with Link every night, knowing something lusty came afterwards? How would Link act now that he had the constant gift of Rhett’s wet mouth, and Rhett, his? How would it feel to bring Link back to his father, confident that they were more than mere neighbors? And God, the best thought of all, what would it be like to fuck Link for real? Bring his dreams to life? Rhett went hot at the thought, then burned hotter knowing answers would soon come.

He continued down the woodland path he’d memorized with a new lightness in his heart. The tips of trees against the morning sky were as beautiful as ever, and as Rhett pushed past their trunks and stepped through the foliage, Rhett felt like a better man. He was a better man for loving Link, and he’d only continue to be so the better he treated Link. So, just as Rhett had blessed the fates, Rhett promised to be the, perhaps first, perhaps only, and ultimately, best boyfriend Link would ever have. And that started, just as Link had asked him to, with his chores.

Rhett skipped quick out of the woods and came upon his cottage. He went about his duties on the farm, feeding the animals, watering the crops, before dipping inside to greet his father. Rhett wondered if Oliver knew about him and Link, but given Rhett’s cheeky, secret smile, he figured it might’ve been obvious. Oliver commented vague, like fathers do, and let Rhett get on with his day.

Eager to get into town then back to Link, Rhett washed his face, changed his clothes, and dropped to his knees before his childhood trunk. He wanted to do something for Link, besides suck him off, to show him how serious he was. If he could, Rhett would give Link a ring, slip it on his finger in promise to marry him someday. As Rhett pawed around in his trunk, moving clothes and trinkets aside, he figured a book would have to do. A ring could come later. They had all the time in the world, anyway.

Rhett found what he was looking for and pulled it into the light. It was a book, one of the few he hadn’t shown Link, a book which had saved him countless times from his own loneliness as a child. Now, there was little loneliness in his life, but the book still meant worlds to him, which made it the perfect gift for someone with influence to match. Rhett traced the faded letters on the front cover fondly. The book was about a lonely beast, shamed by his town for his perceived ugliness. Once a rich prince, the beast’s loneliness earns him a heart of gold, yet no friends to share it with. He spends his days locked in a castle, singing to shadows. It was Rhett’s favorite book because the beast soon meets a lovely girl, and their friendship blossoms something pure inside him. At the end, the beast is returned to his corporeal form and rewarded with the girl’s love. A happy story, Rhett had read it ’til the pages soaked his heart through his fingertips, leaving a bit of the beast in its place.

Rhett flipped through the pages, checking for spiders, then tucked it in his satchel. Without another thought, he rose, galloped downstairs, and set off for town.

Like the night before, the town felt fresh. Rhett padded dusty boots ‘cross the square, smile on his face, waving to his neighbors as if he’d just gotten lucky. On his way to the hillside, Rhett stopped by a cart in the alleyway and dropped a few coins on body oil, knowing full well that he just might. He tucked the crystal bottle in his satchel like precious cargo and continued towards the hillside, feigning innocence.

The picnic basket sat where they’d left it, disheveled by hungry hands. Rhett nudged the empty wine bottle with his toe and flushed at the drunken memory, Link pressed close beside him, warm and giggly. Rhett squatted to roll up the blanket and tucked the rest of the food and empty bottle in the basket, then brought it back with him, leaving nary a hint of their night on the hillside. No rabbits in the sky, just clouds.

Loaded with the basket and the book, Rhett returned to Link. It was a long walk back to the cottage in the woods, missing Link all the while, so when Rhett spotted Link’s skinny frame bending to fix something, Rhett beamed. The walk between their worlds was always worth it, especially with a view like this.

Rhett set the basket down. “Quality rump,” he said, eyes on Link’s backside.

Link stood and turned, breaking into a toothy grin. Fazed by the beauty, Rhett stared dumbstruck as Link ran to him, leapt on him, and smooched him full on the mouth. Rhett mirrored Link’s arms on his neck by looping his waist, kissing him back eagerly, each smooch as dizzying as the first. When Rhett pulled back, he peeked over Link’s shoulder and took note of the clearing.

The clearing outside Link’s cottage, not the one in front, but another, deeper in the woods and off to the side, had been decorated with silver orbs. Link had strung magic in the trees like glittering lights, and as Rhett looked again, he felt Link’s magic thrumming in the earth. This clearing was warmer than the rest of the woods, and softly quiet, as if Link had enchanted it just for them. Link kissed Rhett again and the orbs hummed brighter, casting the space in heavenly glow.

Rhett kissed Link back, just for good luck, then asked, “What’s that?”

Link twisted in his arms to check, both of them looking at a boulder with a butcher-paper wrapped lump atop it. “Merry Christmas?”

“It’s July.”

“Then I guess it’s just a gift from one boyfriend to another.” Link’s eyes twinkled, mouth twitching happy on the word.

Rhett reached for his satchel with little trouble, as Link was still clinging to him. He fumbled for the book and brought it up to Link’s face. “Oh, I’ve got one of those.”

Link released one arm and reached for the book with it. He mouthed the title, then checked its condition. Noting the fingerprints and worn pages, Link gave an astonished look. “This is your favorite book,” he stated.

“Yes.”

“You’re giving me your favorite book.”

“Only person I’d ever want to give it to…” Rhett squeezed Link’s hips and leaned to kiss his neck. “My favorite person.”

Link hummed in pleasure then pushed Rhett off, twirling away across the clearing, book in hand. He was already on page two when he turned back and beckoned Rhett forward. “Come. Blanket. Sit.”

Rhett brought the basket over, and Link leaned on the boulder and read the first few pages as Rhett unfurled the blanket. Rhett fluffed it out over the woodland grounds and spread out the rest of the food, picnic date part two. Link joined him, nose stuck in the book. He didn’t look up until they both settled and the quiet morning went even quieter between them.

When Link looked up from the book at Rhett, his eyes were shiny in love. “Thank you for this,” he said softly. “It’s like a little piece of your childhood.”

Rhett carded his fingers through the curls on his forehead nervously. “I’ve got plenty of stuff like that in the trunk in my room. Even a diary.”

Link’s shiny eyes went sparkly. “Really? A diary?”

But Rhett shook his head. “Oh no, you’re not getting that one. Well, not anytime soon.”

Smiling, book in hand, Link leaned forward and sought Rhett’s face for a kiss. Rhett gave him one, lingering on plump lips, before blinking blissfully smitten back at him. Link shuffled closer, setting the book aside like he had something to say, and Rhett pulled his legs in and listened.

“I don’t have the words to tell you what meeting you has meant to me, even though I’m sure I’ve already tried. You told me you were the lucky one, but it’s the other way around. I am the lucky one. Lucky to have met you, to know you, and to have you like I have you. Do you see this, Rhett? Do you see me out here? I wouldn’t have, would have never… Without you. All of this is for you. Everything has all been for you.”

Rhett feigned flattery, but his heart was soaring confident. “Aw shucks, you’re making me blush.”

Link shook his fluffy head. “I’m serious. I’ve told you this before, but I wouldn’t be half the sorcerer I’ve become, half as brave, without you. And I would have been lonely. Maybe bitter, too. But you taught me how to harness the power within myself, trust in myself, and seek answers unafraid. You taught me kindness and compassion. You’re so sweet, and the best friend I’ve ever had. Rhett, you make me foolish and brave in love,” Link reached and took both of Rhett’s hands, “and I will never forget it. You are everything to me.”

Rhett tightened his hold on Link’s hands and looked deep into his eyes. He held himself calm in icy blue and spoke honestly. “I would die for you.”

Link stuttered, words failing.

Rhett repeated himself. “I would die for you. And I would die knowing I’d missed you. Link, if I spent my whole life here in this town without stumbling into your part of the woods, something would have told me I’d missed out on the most incredible moment of my life. I’d be unhappy, unable to shake that terrible loneliness. I’d think I was missing out on something, but I’m not. I’ve got you, and you are all that matters. In my head, I call you an adventure, but I realized today, that’s not quite true. It’s you and I, together, seeking an adventure of our own. You brought me into a world where magic is real, and so is love. And it’s going to be me and you discovering all we can, bit by bit. Falling more in love with you every day. Growing stronger, together.”

Rhett’s eyes were wet, and so were Link’s. They knew the words they spoke were silly and spoken poorly, saccharine sweet and tinged with ridiculous promises, but no other words suited them. It would be unlike them not to talk to each other, remind each other of their connection and what fates tied them together. It wouldn’t be true to them as individuals or as a pair not to appreciate all they had, bless their luck and make promises like brothers. It would be unlike them not to act completely in love with each other.

So there, in the woods, halfway between Rhett’s world and Link’s, they had a love all their own. Rhett and Link leaned close, two halves of an A-frame house, with hands joined between them as if love filling the space. Together, they made a home.

Link leaned to kiss Rhett again, and Rhett kissed back. When Link pulled away, flushed and slightly weepy, he reached behind himself for the butcher-paper wrapped parcel. “I made you something. I’ll cherish your book, so I hope you like this, too.” It was about two feet tall and one foot wide, and when Link handed it over, Rhett could feel its delicacy. Whatever it was, he was sure to love it.

Rhett set the parcel between them on the blanket and peeked at Link. Link watched carefully as Rhett unwrapped his gift, tugging coils of brown paper down like falling petals, revealing a smooth glass dome. He brushed the scraps of paper aside and looked, and then his heartbeat caught his breath.

Beneath the glass sat a single red rose, magically suspended and glowing faintly. Twinkles of sorcery dusted pink-red petals, and as Rhett looked closer, he could hear the quiet hum of its magic, pulsing in time as if alive. It was elegant and magnificent, just like the woodland boy himself. Rhett reached out a gentle hand and traced the glass with his fingertips, heart fluttering in his chest.

Link moved to cover Rhett’s hand with his own, pressing it close to the glass to feel the warmth, magic emanating from the petals. Rhett was awestruck.

“An enchanted rose…” Rhett whispered.

“An enchanted rose,” Link confirmed. “Enchanted by none other than yours truly. And special, as I cast this rose with you in mind. Well, you and I.”

Rhett looked up, starry-eyed, and silently urged Link to continue. He brought his other hand to the glass and held it calm against the dome, not daring to disturb the rose itself.

“On the day the last petal falls,” Link spoke, softly like the narrator of a fairytale, “is the day that I am no longer devoted to you.”

Rhett removed his hands and looked. “No petals have fallen.”

“And they never will.” Link covered Rhett’s hands again, leaning close for Rhett to catch his honesty. “As long as I love you, truly love you and stay devoted you to, not a single petal will fall. And even though I’ve enchanted it in spell with my heartbeat, I didn’t need to enchant it to keep from wilting. The rose chose not to, not ever.”

“Which means…?”

Link’s eyes burned fierce. “That I will love you ’til the end of time.”

Rhett blinked, then gently pushed the enchanted rose aside. He pulled Link into him, holding him close, unable to say anything else. Having Link, the real Link, in his arms was more precious than a thousand enchanted promises, no matter how beautiful the sentiment. Rhett enclosed Link against his body with long arms and buried his face between neck and shoulder. He held Link there, whispered, “Thank you,” then moved to kiss his face. Little beardy kisses along Link’s jaw and cheeks eventually met his lips, and then they were smooching.

Link, as if born to do it, enclosed his arms around Rhett’s neck and kissed back. It seemed Link’s mouth was made for kissing Rhett, and Rhett’s for kissing Link’s, Rhett’s beardy lip the perfect recipient of Link’s plump smooches. Link rubbed his mouth and chin over Rhett’s beard, fluffing up the strands, then licked at the seam of his lips. Rhett yielded immediately, as kissing Link with tongue happened to be his favorite kind of kissing Link. All kisses were good, mind you, but wet kisses were like no other.

As Link swiveled his head to lick into Rhett’s mouth, he climbed into Rhett’s lap. Rhett had him by the waist in a moment, leaning back to let the weight of Link fall into him, kiss him stupid. Link groaned, nipped at Rhett’s jaw, and the sweet moment was over. Now, Link was insistent and lusty, and Rhett had never wanted him more.

Rhett reached to grope Link’s body, as Rhett is often prone to do, and felt up the tight stretch of Link’s sides. He slid to squeeze his rump and pull Link down into him, and he found himself muttering something sexy into Link’s neck. Link seemed to like it, as he ground his hips hard and sucked on the slick tip of Rhett’s tongue.

Link broke off to say, “I’ve enchanted the clearing to muffle our moans, but I can take it off if you want.”

Rhett grumbled, louder than he would have. “No, keep it. I want to make you scream in pleasure, but I don’t want anyone else to hear it.”

Link liked _that_ even more and shivered, wrapping his arms tighter on Rhett’s neck and leaning in, hot. “We’ve got all the time in the world to make love in my bedroom, in my bed,” (Rhett’s cock twitched at the term _make love_ ), “but right now, I want you here. Right here.”

Rhett sucked a fat red mark into Link’s neck, horny in agreement. He liked having Link wherever, but fucking him in the woods sparked heat like elsewhere couldn’t. Link was a sorcerer born of magic, and Rhett, a farmboy of earth, and Link’s enchanted hollow in the equally enchanting woods seemed the most fitting playground. Or, more simply, you could say the two were kinky for nature and liked fucking in the open forest. Either is good.

Link gave Rhett one final twisting kiss, then slid off his lap and started to crawl away. He cast a playful look over his shoulder, “See you later,” and taunted Rhett to pounce him.

Rhett grumbled, “Oh, no you don’t,” grabbed Link by the ankles and yanked him back, then flipped him over and pounced him. Link liked this maneuver very much and squealed happily as Rhett lay his body overtop. Rhett pressed the full weight of himself atop Link, slotting legs together and puffing warm air between their faces. Smiling, Rhett kissed both of Link’s cheeks and then his mouth.

Anyone happening to stumble by this part of the woods would have a) seen nothing and b) heard nothing, as Link had enchanted the clearing, but if he hadn’t, this passerby might’ve caught a glimpse through the trees of two long-limbed boys scuffling atop a picnic blanket, love in their eyes. This witness would watch as Rhett took Link by the waist and kissed him rough, the two grinding their bodies together and growing hornier by the second. Thankfully, nobody but Rhett knew the way through Link’s woods. Or his trousers, for that matter.

Hidden by magic and lost to the lust of their own little moment, Rhett pinned Link beneath him and kissed his neck. He rubbed his hardening cock on Link’s hip, urging Link’s attention, and growled hot in his ear. “Finish what you started, boy.”

Link gave a naughty grin and reached between their bodies for Rhett’s cock, cupping him through his trousers and rubbing him to full swell. Rhett reached to touch Link in return, earning him a deep moan of pleasure. Link tipped his head back, long neck exposed, and at the sight of Link’s creased brow and flushed cheeks, Rhett couldn’t help but groan, “Fuck, I love you.”

Bringing his legs up to curl ‘round Rhett’s waist, Link responded in kind by squeezing him harder. “Love you,” Link husked, “and love this cock.”

Rhett bucked, jolting the both of them. “Say it again.”

“Cock.”

“The other thing.”

“I love you.” Link shifted his body to align his hard-on with Rhett’s, then rocked beneath him, chanting. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I want to make love to you, want you to make love to me.”

Satisfied, Rhett bucked again. Link resolved into soft grunts, thrusting his hips for friction. Gritting his teeth at the dull, swollen pleasure of rubbing himself on Link, Rhett kissed him again and reached between their bodies. He tugged Link’s cock out from his hem, and then his own, following the natural urge to press their bare skin together. He took both cocks in one big hand and squeezed.

Link gasped.

He clawed at Rhett’s shoulders and fucked up into Rhett’s hand, slotting against Rhett’s cock, catching its dampness. Link reached to tug at Rhett’s curls, bring his face close and smooch him again, licking into Rhett’s mouth with the same urgency he thrust his hips. Rhett licked back, furrowing his brows into the pleasure.

It was unlike anything else, having Link’s cock against his own. The night before, Rhett had tugged him quick and dirty in the dark, and the following morning (mere hours ago?), Rhett had sucked him. He’d taken the time to admire Link’s cock then, but now, up against his own, Rhett shivered at the comparison. Link was longer than him, and spongy pale, where Rhett was thick and flushed at the head. Glancing down at the sight of both cockheads pushing through his balled fist, damp at the tips and wetting each other up, Rhett went absolutely wild in lust. This was fucking Link, in one way or another, and Rhett could barely hold out.

Still, he managed to for a number of minutes longer. Link tugged at his hair, so Rhett tugged back, crumpling his free fist at the back of Link’s head and holding him steady as they rocked. Pleasure continued to build, bare and slick and so fucking _hard,_ and by the time Link started to really moan, Rhett urged him louder.

“Come on,” he demanded, earlobe between his teeth. “Talk to me.”

Rhett loosened his fist, then tightened again, jerking the both of them. He rolled his fist over their cocks, fast and torturous, and watched in simmering desire as Link fell apart beneath him.

“Unh! Unh! Unh!” Link moaned on every jerk. “Yes, Rhett! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Louder.”

“Yes, baby, yes! Oh God, touch me there, please, don’t stop, please-“

Rhett’s climax hit before he knew it, cresting at the sound of Link begging him, spurting come all over his fist and Link’s cock. He shuddered, rolled the slick into Link’s cock, and huffed a tense breath. He buried his face in Link’s neck, shameful, and continued to tug Link, just Link, slowly.

“Did you just…?” Link asked quietly.

Rhett nodded into Link’s neck, still tugging him.

Link made a sound somewhere between a grumble and a whine and said, “That’s so fucking hot.”

Smiling at the approval, Rhett nipped Link’s ear. “Wanted you so bad, just couldn’t help myself.”

“C’mere.” Link pushed at Rhett ’til their positions flipped, guiding Rhett down onto his back. He climbed over, sat heavy on Rhett’s lap, and tucked Rhett’s softening cock back in his trousers with a little pat. Link smiled down at him, filthy, like he had something planned. Rhett reached to sweep hands up Link’s thighs, touching him gentle as Link spoke. “I want to try something.”

Rhett licked his lips. “Anything, baby.”

Something dark flashed in Link’s eyes, casting him as a kind of woodland incubus, feeding on Rhett’s lust. Digging his knees into the blanket at either side, Link shuffled up Rhett’s body and sat square on his chest, putting his groin right in Rhett’s face. Rhett blinked, waiting for command.

Link held his cock between thumb and forefinger and rubbed the head at the seam of Rhett’s lips. “Open up.”

Rhett kept his eyes on Link as he obeyed, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out. He gripped Link’s hips rough in anticipation, settling beneath Link’s weight, ready to do some serious cocksucking.

Seemingly innocent but definitely not, Link laid the head of his cock on Rhett’s tongue and slowly pushed into his open mouth. “That’s a good boy,” he cooed. “Just like that.”

Rhett didn’t dare blink as he closed his reddened lips around the meat of it, keeping his eyes trained on Link as he pushed. He relaxed his mouth and throat, gathered slick on his tongue, and let Link do the rest. When Link had fit more than half of himself in Rhett’s mouth, Rhett squeezed his hips in silent consent, and Link started to thrust.

A few inches out, a few more back in. Link kept the pace slow, allowing Rhett to grow familiar with the sensation, but when Rhett squeezed again, Link pushed deeper. “God, fuck, this is amazing.”

Rhett, unable to respond, quirked his brows and smiled as best he could. Link reached to grab a messy mopful of amber curls and thrust a little harder. A little harder after that, and Rhett took it like a champ. Drool formed at the corners of his mouth, and his jaw hinged awkwardly, but here, with a mouthful of Link, Rhett didn’t want to be anywhere else. He felt he was born to take this cock in his mouth, and damn it all if he didn’t do it right. Rhett closed his eyes and furrowed his brows, concentrating on the task at hand.

Link seemed to like the look of his face in focus, for he tugged hard at his hair and began muttering filthy praise. “Look at you,” he grumbled, fucking Rhett’s face shamelessly. “Look at how you suck my cock. Taking it so good.”

Rhett whimpered ‘round the thick of him, urging Link to keep talking. _Talk to me forever, let me listen._

“So beautiful like this,” Link went on, tracing his thumb over Rhett’s features. “Your cheeks and your eyebrows, your beard and your _mouth,_ God, I love your fucking face. Handsome face.”

It seemed there were only so many phrases they could say to each other in times of lust, and they repeated all of them, switching roles yet speaking the same words. A demand to keep talking and a mention of beauty recur, but the boys liked it, so who’s to stop them? Link went on, sliding wet between Rhett’s lips.

“I’ve thought about this.” Oh, and fulfilled fantasies, that’s a big one. “As soon as I knew you were mine, I wanted to see your face like this. What it’d look like with my cock in your mouth.”

Rhett peeked a look, curious brow. _And? What do you think?_

“Incredible.” Link answered, stroking his hand down Rhett’s cheek. “Absolutely incredible.”

Rhett hummed low in his throat, closed his lips tight on Link’s cock, then did something with his tongue that had Link bucking forward in a grunt. _Hurry up, my jaw._

Responding by spreading his legs wider and slipping deeper, Link twisted his handful of hair and held Rhett’s head firm between blanket and pelvis. Rhett pulled him by the hips even further into his throat, and Link lost it. “Fuck, yes, keep going. Suck me like that. Use your tongue, that’s right. Suck me so good that I come all over your face. Gonna come all over that pretty f-“

Hollowed cheeks yield strong results, and Link interrupted himself with a moan as he started to come. He slipped his cock from Rhett’s mouth and slid it over his lips just in time to paint his face.

Rhett closed his eyes and let the ropes fall hot and sticky on his face. Link shot come over his eyebrow, eyelid, and nose, and rubbed over Rhett’s closed lips as he shot a second string over Rhett’s cheek and beard. One more little spurt on Rhett’s mustache, and Link admired his work.

“Oh my God.”

Rhett peeked with one eye, and Link was staring down at him, intense. It was a little intimidating, but glorious all the same.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Link tugged his cock with trembling fingers, urging the last few droplets onto Rhett’s lips. Rhett lapped them up like he knew Link wanted him to, and Link smeared a finger through the come on Rhett’s cheek. “I’m going to remember this image for a long time.”

Rhett gave a small grunt of impatience, and Link chuckled. He leaned down and swiped a hand through the air above Rhett’s face, magically clearing the stickiness. This left Rhett’s face clean and dry, albeit, slightly flushed.

Link cupped a blushing cheek and moved down Rhett’s body in order to kiss him. Rhett’s lips tingled with the smooch and the lasting feel of Link’s cock, and Link slipped him a bit of tongue in thanks. He stroked Rhett’s hair lovingly as he pulled back, teasing, “Better?”

Reclaiming his voice, Rhett croaked, “You know I’d wear your come proudly.”

“Of course.”

“But it was sticky.”

“Right.”

The two looked at each other, silent, then burst into bounds of post-orgasmic laughter. They didn’t stop laughing until Rhett took Link in his arms and rolled them back over, smooching him through his laughter and well into in round two.

* * *

Rhett didn’t fetch the body oil from his satchel until more than a week later.

In that week, Rhett and Link worked out all the kinks (ha!) of their new relationship, falling into a steady rhythm which wasn’t unlike the one they had before. Now, they simply kissed a lot. Rhett continued to visit Link, teach him to cook, and watch him practice magic, and Link continued to follow Rhett into town, lead him through the woods, and take him swimming. They fought and laughed, they fell deeper in love. Two lonely boys turned best friends turned lovers, Rhett and Link waited as long as they could, trying everything there was to try, before Rhett honored his promise and fucked Link for real.

The first time, Link wanted to do it proper, in his bed. Rhett would have had him anywhere, including the dirt outside the cottage or atop a boulder, but they figured indoors would be best.

Days prior, Rhett had learned how to get Link off with his mouth between his cheeks. They’d talked out what they thought they should do and compared it to what they wanted to do, and soon Link was on all fours before the fireplace with Rhett’s beardy face in his ass. Rhett spread him with two big hands and licked him nice and wet, dragging his tongue over Link’s rim and opening him up, widening the taut muscle to eventually fit his wiggly fingers. He learned how to touch Link, how to go slow when he needed to adjust and how to ram into him mercilessly, fingers crooked to hit all the best spots inside him. Rhett soon became very good at this, and decided that he liked the way Link’s insides felt very much. Still, he waited for Link’s permission to try anything else.

This brings us to a quiet evening a little more than a week after the initial _I love you’s,_ with both boys feeling keyed-up and alive. They were ready for it, and Link confirmed this as he lead Rhett by the hand into his bedroom. The room glowed soft in orange candlelight, and Link had enchanted the ceiling with stars again, striking up music from a magic box in the corner of the room. Pleasant guitar and chimes, and Rhett felt completely at ease. Which was important, given how nervous he could have been.

Link sat on his bed, pulling Rhett down next to him. He gave Rhett a deep, telling look, then raised a hand to cup his cheek. He leaned in to kiss Rhett soft, whispered, “I’m ready,” and that’s where I leave you.

Just kidding.

Rhett reached for Link’s waist and tipped him back, never breaking the kiss. Link let himself be pushed onto the bed and scooted up against the pillows, Rhett crawling overtop, long limbs and all. Squeezing Link’s waist in soothing touches, Rhett kissed him slow and wet, smooching him full and slipping just the barest hint of tongue. The body oil, previously used on Rhett’s fingers, sat innocent on the bedside table, waiting. However, Rhett was determined to do this right, so he kissed Link for a good long while before he pulled off and asked, “How do you want it?”

Link, kiss-flushed, smiled up at him, crinkly eyes catching the stars. “Lick me open first. Get me nice and loose.”

Rhett dropped his head in a huff, body going hot at Link’s words. He should have known Link wouldn’t stay sweet for long. Teasing filthy words was his favorite foreplay. Eager to fulfill every one of Link’s smutty fantasies, Rhett bucked his insistent desire against Link’s hip, muttering, “Yes, baby, of course I’ll do that,” into his neck.

Another kiss, and Rhett had Link bent in half in a second. He hoisted Link’s skinny legs up and scooted to brace him with his thighs, giving Link one heated look before stripping his thin black trousers in a quick movement. Rhett cast them aside and got his hands on Link’s bare legs, still in slight disbelief that he was allowed, nay, _encouraged_ to undress Link in moments like this. He kept the shirt on, though, as he wanted to crumple it later in lust.

Link raised his knees again, spreading his legs for Rhett’s viewing pleasure. Rhett huffed once more, as Link never wore undergarments and seemed to enjoy being bare beneath his clothes, bare beneath Rhett. Rhett took him in both hands by the back of the knees and pushed his legs back, folding him over and spreading his cheeks. He used one hand to tug Link slow, tightening his fist to get him harder, then shuffled low on the bed. Link kept his eyes on him, patient, as Rhett’s face neared his groin, then went lower.

Rhett flashed Link one last look, received the sexy sorcerer’s lip bite in consent, then sealed his mouth over Link’s rim. The change was instantaneous.

Immediately, Link relaxed into Rhett’s mouth. He fell back, boneless, into the pillows. He spread his legs wider, allowing Rhett to fit deeper as he swirled the tip of his tongue over Link’s rim. Rhett, shivering with heat and wanting Link so _badly,_ calmly rubbed himself against the bed to maintain pressure and kept his focus on Link. He gathered slick on his tongue and lapped it wet over the rim, nudging his nose up under Link’s testicles. He bent Link further, the flexible thing, and pointed his tongue, slipping it inside to loosen the muscle. As he continued to lick, suck, and lap for the next few minutes, Link sunk deeper into the pleasure. He whimpered with every flick and moaned into the long, wet drags of Rhett’s tongue, eventually reaching to hold his own knees to his chest to allow Rhett to spread him with his thumbs.

Rhett gave another wet lick and pulled back, admiring the reddened, sloppy rim. Link twitched open for him, yielding to his tongue. Rhett sucked on his thumb and rubbed it against Link’s rim, soothing, tugging him open to catch a glance of the silken pink insides. He’d never seen anything so delicious.

Rhett couldn’t help himself. As he reared up, he spit straight onto Link’s rim, lewd with it, and rubbed it in, petting Link’s thigh with his other hand. “Beautiful,” Rhett whispered, eyes trained between Link’s cheeks. Rhett would have thought Link would flush and squirm under the pinpoint attention, but he just split a smile and pulled his legs tighter to his chest, gaping wide in anticipation.

“Come on,” Link urged, releasing himself to lock his legs ‘round Rhett’s middle. “Fuck me already.”

Rhett steadied him, leaning down for a kiss. “Not yet. Gonna stretch you with my fingers.”

Link whined, clamping his mouth down on Rhett’s neck. “Fine,” he mumbled. “But you’re wearing too many clothes. Get this off.” Link reached to help Rhett strip, tugging off his beige tunic and tossing it far from the bed, getting his hands on Rhett’s bare chest, moaning for it.

Rhett let him touch for a minute, warming in lust at being admired, then reached over Link for the oil on the table. He brought it over with a little jingle, teasing Link with the sight of it. He enclosed it in a big fist and leant down again, swiping his tongue over Link’s rim a few more times before spitting a generous dab on three fingers and smearing it on the muscle. Link was bright red.

When Rhett finally uncorked the bottle and doused the two index fingers of his right hand in oil, he took note of Link’s expression. Flushed, Link kept lusty blue eyes steady, pink tongue poking out over his bottom lip, candlelight on his cheekbones. His thin brows were low in concentration, and he watched Rhett as he moved his hand down between his legs and circled the tip of his middle finger around his rim, oiling him up. Link was tense with desire, but yielded beautifully as Rhett pressed on, gentle.

Rhett smeared oil over the rim with two fingers, rubbing and pressing, drizzling a little bit more for good measure. Then, slowly, he breached the opening, pressing through and into Link, taking note of Link’s breathless noises. He slid further, slick, never tiring of Link’s hot, ribbed insides. Oil and spit caught up with each other, and soon Link was twitching wide, swallowing Rhett down to the lowest knuckle.

Rhett let out the breath he was holding. He was so fucking horny. “Oh my god,” he rumbled, smoothing his free hand up Link’s stomach. “You feel incredible.”

Link flicked his tongue. “Just wait ’til you get your cock in there.”

Momentarily fazed by Link’s erotic tongue, Rhett remembered this was Link he was about to fuck, and Link liked it rough. With a filthy smirk, Rhett, ever the gentle top, began pumping his fingers, spreading them inside Link’s rump and scissoring, stretching his limits.

Link moaned, low and throaty, and spread his legs, pulling at the flesh under his thighs to open himself up further, letting Rhett finger him deeper. As he worked his wrist, Link ground down on his hand, spewing slutty nonsense. Rhett bent forward to shut up him with his mouth, but Link just kept moaning.

Remembering that Link went wild for the thickness of his cock, Rhett spread his two fingers as wide as his girth, preparing Link fully. He worked the oil deep and rubbed at the glistening rim, making sure Link was all lubed up, absolutely dripping, before attempting to fuck him. A few more thrusts of his fingers, and Link was falling apart, trembling in heat and begging Rhett to finish the job.

“Now,” Link demanded. “Now, do it now.”

Removing his wet fingers, Rhett sat up and pressed his pelvis close. He scrambled to release his cock, damp and straining. Rhett poured a handful of oil into his palm, corked the bottle, and slicked himself up, noting Link’s satisfied grin as he did so. Tender and aching for it, Rhett pressed the wet head of his cock against Link’s rim and checked for consent one final time. “Want you so bad right now, baby. You ready to get fucked?”

“Yes, please, just do it.”

Rhett threw one of the legs that twined his hips over his right shoulder and pressed a kiss to the calf. He then leaned forward and pushed, breaching the slick opening nice and thick. Link was right, his insides felt even better on his cock, hot and tight and wet… Rhett shuddered, collapsing forward in a groan. He couldn’t believe it.

Link bore down, relaxed his hips, and let Rhett slide all the way inside him, one beautiful inch at a time. When Rhett was fully sheathed, he wiped Link’s sweaty bangs from his forehead and gave him the softest love eyes he’d ever given.

Link wiggled his hips, jolting Rhett into motion. Slowly, Rhett pulled out, then pushed back in. He did it again, Link clinging to him as he rocked, and soon, Rhett found his rhythm.

I’m pretty sure you know how it goes from here. As Rhett took control of his own pleasure, he used it to drown Link in his own, fucking him with little regret as he yelped for it. Rhett slammed his hips, thrusting so hard Link bounced against the bed, knocking his skull into the headboard. In return, Link went absolutely wild, squirming about and thrashing his head, clawing at Rhett’s shoulders and chest and muttering breathless commands and compliments all the way.

Don’t worry, Rhett also had plenty to say. “Yes, yes! Oh God, Link, I’m fucking you, oh my God, it feels so good!” Alright, maybe his words were less poetic than they were when he wasn’t seven inches deep in his boyfriend, but give him a break. Up until this moment, Rhett had never felt anything like this. Nothing like this.

He kept fucking Link through his noises, through their filthy conversation, until Rhett decided to flip Link over. He pulled out, leaving Link’s rim red and fucked-out, and whispered words of encouragement to get Link on his stomach. “Turn over, pretty boy, let me see that perfect rump.”

Fucked stupid and therefore slightly breathless, Link rolled onto his stomach and propped himself up on his knees. He put both hands on the headboard and raised himself up, rump searching for Rhett’s cock. Rhett pushed back in immediately, grabbed Link by the hips, and continued pounding. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to grip Link’s ass and spread his cheeks, hold him tight by the waist, or yank a fistful of black hair, so he tried everything in quick succession.

By the time Link was rocking back against Rhett’s pelvis, begging for more, Rhett let loose for real. He pushed Link’s tunic up his back and over his head, using the bunched-up fabric to hold his arms in place. Overwhelmed by the sight of Link’s bouncy rump split on his cock, Rhett went one further and spanked one cheek hard, then the other. Link squealed for it, so Rhett did it again, and again, and again, leaving the supple flesh red and raw. Then he took Link by the hips and started talking, emphasizing each word with an oily thrust. “God, Link, I’ve dreamt- dreamt- dreamt of you like this. Just like this.”

Link tipped his head, arching his back into the pleasure. “Tell me.”

“When you were gone. You left me, you _left_ me, and I just wanted you fucking bad, God, I wanted you, Link…” Rhett hadn’t yet told Link of how terrible the week without him had been, and as he had him now, recreating the scene in his dream down to the very pose, he spilled his heart with the worst of it. “I missed you so much, didn’t know why you left me, didn’t know how to feel. I just wanted you - _wanted_ you - and then you came back, you came back and all I could think of was having you like this.” Rhett reached down to spread Link’s cheeks and looked at the pink, wet place where his cock disappeared, dream-like but definitively real. He spanked him again, once for leaving him and twice for the fun of it. “God, I love having you like this.”

Link spread his legs and thrust helplessly against the pillows, his own cock aching hard and dripping. He needed to come, that Rhett knew, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long. What Link said next had him coming all the sooner. “You can have me like this,” Link grunted. “Whenever. All the time. Fuck me all the time.”

Rhett grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked to growl in Link’s ear. “I plan to. But right now, I’m gonna make you come.”

“Please.”

They shut themselves up after that, Rhett pounding hard and fast, soaking the front of his trousers with leaking oil. He crouched to cover Link with his whole body, sucking marks into his neck as he fucked Link into an orgasm like no other. Link crested quick, yelping as Rhett rammed that perfect spot on every thrust, falling apart with his own hand on his cock. Link clamped tight down on Rhett’s cock as he came, wetting up the pillows between his legs, crying out Rhett’s name as the finishing touch.

“Rhett! Rhett! Oh, Rhett!”

With his name on Link’s lips, Rhett followed quick. He pulsed a trembling orgasm deep inside him, fucking through the stars in his eyes. He called back, “Link! Link! I love you, Link!” and twitched the remaining thrusts as he gradually came to a stop. He stayed locked in Link for a moment, letting the slick between their bodies bond them, in a way, before wrapping big arms tight on Link’s waist and lowering them both to the bed.

Rhett held Link as they breathed and pressed a soft kiss to his ear.

That was the first time.

The second time, the following morning, Rhett was less gentle and bent Link over the stone table, slicking himself up quick and fucking Link good and rough, just like he liked it.

The third time, Link wanted Rhett to have a go, so they repeated the preparation on Rhett, excited to switch. They were taking a walk in the woods when Rhett decided, found a fallen tree and threw himself over it, asking Link to crouch down behind him and eat him out. Link happily obliged, and as it turned out, Rhett liked Link’s tongue in his ass very, _very_ much. Horny and eager to top, Link fingered Rhett ’til he gaped, then slicked himself up in oil and got to work.

Rhett thought fucking Link was incredible, but being fucked by Link was even better. Where Link liked to thrash about and moan, Rhett felt his pleasure keen and whimpered for it, high-pitched hums and a creased brow, drooling into his beard as Link fucked him, cock hard and lengthy. Link asked Rhett how he liked it, how it was to know the pleasure from the other side, and Rhett could barely explain. It was a thousand pleasures all at once, deep-seated and hot and lusty and _full_ , so full, like he wasn’t quite himself until he got Link’s cock inside him.

Link’s hands were a perfect fit on Rhett’s hips, and when he pulled out to come on his tailbone, Rhett decided they would never, not ever, get stuck in a rut. They would always have each other in whatever way they fancied. Hell, maybe even twice in one day to give both bums time to heal.

* * *

That’s all I can really say on the matter, honestly. The two were in love and liked to fuck often, just as any healthy young couple. They respected each other and always checked for consent, despite the underlying promise of _Fuck me anytime, anywhere._ Discovering the best sex was key to the honeymoon phase of a relationship like theirs, but it seemed Rhett and Link’s never ended. Their sex was always good, no matter gentle frotting or rawing each other rough, and neither of them felt the least bit under appreciated. Both of them got their ass ate, in other words.

Yes, Rhett and Link’s friendship was a sturdy base for their romance, and it left them completely devoted to each other, enchanted rose or no. Their lonely hearts had lightened upon meeting, and from that very first day in the woods, they’d haunted each other’s dreams, untouchable ghosts of lust. Rhett had braved an open heart, giving Link himself in complete sincerity, and Link had offered nothing else but the same everlasting love. While Link admitted that he didn’t know what was to come in the future, if he was going to continue his sorcerer’s training elsewhere or not, one thing was certain: He and Rhett would never be apart. He promised this, and Rhett believed him.

Now, I’ve been telling this story for a long time, and while I don’t know everything, I do know that Rhett and Link stayed together for many years. The two wrote a fantasy all their own, one of mythical proportions, and grew to be powerful men with a powerful love. And, while all stories must end, I want to leave you with one last image, one that comes a few weeks into their relationship, when Rhett had headed back to his cottage to chop some lumber.

He was glowing, completely alight with romantic feelings, as he brought his axe down. Sweaty, he wiped at his brow and caught something shimmering at the edge of the woods. He looked, heart aflutter in knowing, and found the same magic silver rabbit snuffling about in the bushes.

Rhett looked again, and a larger rabbit hopped to join the first, golden like the summer sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!! HERE'S THE FINALE OF THIS MONSTER OF A FIC!!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's supported me these last six months. We've gone from June to December with these boys, even if it's only been about two months for them. Seeing this fic come to life, complete and heavy with rhinky goodness, warms my mythical heart.
> 
> Also, let me just apologize for the smuttiness of these last two chapters. They came out dirtier than anticipated, so if any of it squicked you out, I'm sorry, but filthy comeplay just seems so true to form for these nasty boys. They worship each other, which you know makes for some interesting sex.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading my little fairytale. If you want more rhink, come find me as [@lovelyrhink](http://lovelyrhink.tumblr.com) on tumblr, and let's get weird with it!!


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